Big Red
by Shadow Griffin
Summary: Sequel 2/2 of TotC. This is little Djibourdi's story, one full of strength, tribulation, and self-determination. Continuing after the events of TotC, and it is highly recommended that be read first. Rated for mentions of abuse and other things.


It's been a long time coming, but between a fun, rare thyroid condition and working in retail (have you ever wanted to throttle a complete stranger?) I finally managed to get this done. This is the longest one-shot I have ever written, published or not, and I am just slightly proud of it. This is little Djibourdi's story in between the events of Tribulation of the Chosen and Starlit Streak, the second of two sequels to the former story. I highly suggest reading TotC because Djibourdi is my character alone and you should probably get an idea of who he is before reading this.

Warnings: This is a story that reflects on mentions of child abuse. I don't particularly enjoy the topic, but having suffered through it for twenty some-odd years and forming chiraptophobia I am somewhat familiar with the topic and I didn't go over-board. There is enough here for you to draw your own conclusions, but none of the thoughts or instances are sugar coated and that is on purpose. That is why the rating is so high.

Disclaimer: If you have seen it or heard it on TV, it doesn't belong to me. Obviously, little Djibourdi and the people you have never heard of I created and I do ask that you do not use them without my permission.

There are illusions to real-life things in here, and I had quite a bit of fun writing it all in. As always, don't flame me please. Read, enjoy, review so I know who's actually reading and whether or not I should write anything else. Feel free to PM me any time with story suggestions, helpful hints, or even if you would just like to have an arbitrary conversation.

It may be early but have a blessed Easter, everyone – from myself and my lovable bunny Jasper!

Happy Writing,

~Eliana

**IOIOIOIOIOIOIOI**

He wasn't sure exactly how he had hidden it as well as he had to get it past the nurses, doctors, and the Jedi Fisto who had come to retrieve him – it almost brought a smile to the chapped lips as he squeezed the little leather-bound book in his arms in earnest. The cold material tickled, but it was the smells that made him bury his face into the paper pages that stroked his face ever so lightly. The book itself happened to be just slightly dirty, but it smelled so much like the place that he had just left yesterday... oh how much he disliked that hospital, but he disliked even more cutting off the one who had reached out to him. This book smelled like Eddy...

Djibourdi snapped his eyes open at the sound of the main door to the quarters opening and he shot to his unsteady feet, skillfully slipping the rare leather-bound book below the sleeping mat and standing as he had been taught : decent space between his feet, hands clasped behind his back, eyes turned to the ground. It was disrespectful to look a master in the eye, so when Jedi Master Kit Fisto knocked lightly on the bedroom door before stepping in, the boy didn't dare to look up. The master was moving as gently as he could so as to not spook the extremely nervous child who stood as still as a statue, hardly even breathing as the Jedi softly called his name.

"Djibourdi?"

It was kissed with an accent that didn't belong, but just the sound of his name leaving anyone's lips had the young Togrutan immediately doubling up his mental shields in the only range of self-defense that he knew he could still muster.

The master frowned slightly. He had just tapped at this youngling's mind and the response had been immediate – he had never felt walls this sophisticated from anyone, let alone someone of this age. This had been quite an ordeal that the boy had been through, but even now he was so systematic and methodical that he had seen the Jedi's attempt before it was even made. And he still stood absolutely stiff (apart from the slightly shaking muscles in his legs and back... from fear or over-exertion it was surely difficult to tell), not once since the master had flown to Shili to retrieve him and bring him back to the Temple had he even been able to look into this one's eyes for a split second. The only response he had been able to truly get was a bowed head in understanding when he had been requested to follow Fisto to their temporary quarters upon reaching the Temple.

He wasn't going to be this one's master, he had already been thinking of another child to take on, but at the request of the Council he had quickly agreed to look after this youngling for a while to ensure that he settled back in and recovered as best he could. He hadn't eaten much since they had arrived around sunset last night, and by the look of exhaustion marring the little face he hadn't slept too well either – then he must have been pretending to sleep during the times the Jedi had peered in on him over the course of the night. This one was going to be a challenge – very much more so than the younglings he had watched over before, Fisto told himself.

At least the padawan was settled enough to set up his own insulin pump this morning, as was evident as the small machine sat clipped to his right side. That much was taken care of, now it would be the fight of trying to get him out into the main halls of the Temple to start his first meeting with a soul-healer.

Cautiously he got down to one knee, knowing by now that reaching out a hand to touch the bony shoulder was not a welcome idea. He felt his eyes soften with his heart when the child purposely locked his eyes onto a piece of carpeting, his chin trembling just enough to be noticed under his currently light red skin.

"Djibourdi," Master Fisto began once again, ensuring in his mental checklist that his tone was even and soft, nothing to even give the child the slightest hint that something was going to happen, "Good morning, little one. How was your night?"

Long, was the honest answer. Not a lick of sleep for this troubled mind, but after being uprooted yet again and leaving the one person who he deemed as sanctuary, it was only to be expected. He was hungry, cold, exhausted and scared – but he would never say that. He chose to keep his eyes on the ground...avoid confrontation. Master Fisto took a different approach.

"That's alright," he softly soothed, bending his head down a bit and watching the eyes skillfully avoid his own, "I'm sure that the words will come in time."

Of course there was no answer, but still he smiled.

"Go and get your robe," Fisto lightly ordered, seeing the small tell-tale goosebumps pop up on the reddish skin, "We will go to this meeting, come back and eat some lunch, and the you will take a long nap. Does that sound good?"

A miniscule bob of the head gave the silent affirmative. Yes... sleep sounded very good, but he would never get restful sleep with the horrid nightmares that constantly plagued him every time he closed his eyes. He obeyed the command from the master in front of him, taking a couple steps back to retrieve the neatly folded robe on the end of his bed and slipping it on, never once taking his eyes off the floor and never turning his back out of respect and memory. This man hardly seemed bad...but none of them did. Yet they were all surely just as evil as he thought.

Obediently he returned to stand rather fidgety in front of the Jedi who was still crouched on the floor, having not moved in an effort to note every finicky motion the youth made – if he couldn't help this child, hopefully the mind-healers could, and observation could only help. As silently as he could he climbed to his feet, feeling his heart twinge when he realized just how tall he was in comparison with Djibourdi; oh Force he was so tiny! He looked to be no older than seven or eight years old with his height, and the mere fact that he was absolutely determined to stare a hole into the floors certainly didn't help. How exactly this session would go, Fisto wasn't too sure of. All he knew was that it wouldn't be the most comfortable for either of them.

"Come now, Djibourdi," he called when his feet led him to the doorway, "It is time to go."

Like a little lost puppy Djibourdi followed, twitching hands now tightly clasped in front of him as he trotted hurriedly to catch up. Fisto wasn't going to leave him behind and slowed down enough for his charge to walk next to him – only it was obvious that the Togrutan was having none of it. He stood slightly behind the Jedi on his right. Never beside or in front of his elder, only behind. It was accepted by the Jedi who led him down two long halls and through a set of automatic doors.

With a quick word to the woman behind a desk Djibourdi was gestured to enter the large room that was on the left, and he immediately dove behind the tall man in front of him when the door shut behind him and he realized they weren't alone.

Another man stood in front of them – a human, the boy noted with a feeling of dread – dressed in grey robes and with his brown hands lightly held in front of him. On his nose balanced a pair of glasses and he stood with an air of purpose, but smiled nonetheless when Fisto and his charge entered the room.

"Master Fisto," he greeted warmly, bowing before clasping hands with his fellow Jedi.

"Hello, Knight Fuli," was the likewise greeting.

"Now who is this?" Fuli questioned as he crouched to the ground, easily spying the little red face that just barely peered around Fisto's brown robes with a light air of curiosity. Of course the mind-healer knew who he was, it was his business to know, but the light-aired question was intended to try and draw the shy boy out of his shell. It failed horribly.

Djibourdi did NOT like this man... he had such an air about him that it screamed for the younger to run as far away as he could. His upper lip twitched twice over his teeth, a sign of his nervousness.

"This is Djibourdi," he was told and the face disappeared again behind the multiple layers of cloth, making his current hiding place laugh, "I'm afraid he is very shy."

"Oh, that's alright," the soul-healer stated calmly, shooting a smile to the hidden padawan, "There's nothing wrong with that. We'll take things slow."

He got to his feet.

"He's rather attached to you. Can you both go sit over there?"

He pointed with one hand to a large, comfortable looking couch against the right-hand wall underneath a rather large window. It was designed to make the room seem spacious, less like a dead-end – it was a dead-end, Djibourdi realized with a hint of panic. The door behind him wasn't locked but it was closed, the window proved that they were a long, long way from the ground, there was no escape!

He must have jumped about five feet in the air when a light palm touched the top of his head, and both adults were quick to hold up their hands, one looking concerned and the other startled.

"Easy, child," Fisto stated calmly, slowly placing his hand back on top of the trembling head, "We are going to sit over there by the window."

If he was going to stay hidden, Djibourdi had no choice but to follow the master's lead over to the couch. When he suddenly found himself airborne he gave a gasp and struggled for what he thought was his life until he was seated on the sofa, his struggles ceasing when he realized that he had been lifted up onto the piece of furniture without warning – he couldn't have probably gotten up on his own, but the sudden motion still had him locking stiff and staring wide-eyed at the Jedi who released him and sat down next to him.

"See? All fine," Fuli told him in what he assumed was reassurance (which he didn't know only fueled the already-growing fear inside his patient) as he sat only a couple paces away in a chair and folded his hands, "My name is Fuli, Djibourdi. I'm a soul-healer. Do you know what that is?"

He didn't get a solid answer, only very hesitant golden eyes glancing into his and then immediately dropping to the floor as if he had been overly-reprimanded for looking up. This one was certainly going to be a challenge. Already he could see either chiraptophobia or agoraphobia quite clearly, and almost certainly PTSD.

"I'm here to help you feel better by helping you deal with bad memories," he tried to explain still not getting any real acknowledgment. He had to get some sort of indicator in order to move forward. "Djibourdi, can you tell me about your former master?"

There was a blatant answer. The white head shook rather strongly, and though his eyes were burning into the floor the therapist could see them widen so the whites of his eyes showed clearly.

"It's alright, little one. I promise he's not here to hurt you anymore, but we need to know so we can help you and put this case to rest."

Another shake of the head.

Quickly the gold eyes were scanning around the room as his heart rate accelerated. The only escape was the door.

"I can see for myself if you let me," Fuli offered, sliding forward in his chair to be closer to the padawan who slightly leaned away. The therapist reached two hands out toward the little face incrementally – if the boy let him he could view the memories for himself and cut out the time in between. His only orders were to find proof of abuse – he only needed to see one. Djibourdi cringed lower.

Out of immediate reaction the threatening rumbles left his lungs, the red lips twitching over the sharp teeth in a threatening grimace – it was all for show, a bluff and a bid to try and buy himself the high ground in what he now believed was a threatening situation.

"Fuli..." was the drug-out warning from Master Fisto who could easily spy the flight reaction kicking in as the golden eyes lit up brightly with panic.

"It's alright," the therapist pushed, reaching ever closer, "You won't be hurt, child -"

Just as soon as the tips of his fingers tapped the prominent cheekbones there was nothing left but air – and with the speed of nothing Fisto had ever seen before the Togrutan was gone, bolting straight out of the door, out of the therapist halls, and down the corridors before the master even stood up from the couch. Rounding the corner without slowing Djibourdi slipped on the polished floor, careening straight into it at such a speed that he hardly noticed. In his mind he screamed out in terror, and if the adrenaline hadn't have overrode his logical thinking, he would have heard the surprised response that came.

As it was he was back up and darting again, straight into his temporary quarters and diving without hesitance under the bed that was possibly only ten inches off the ground. The mere fact that he fit under it was an indication of how small he was, but the closed space and darkness gave him a slight comfort and an excellent hiding spot. The insulin pump on his hip knocked against him painfully, but the remaining adrenaline in his system deleted it just as quickly as it came. With panting breaths he pressed himself as far into the corner under the bed as he could.

Within a matter of a couple minutes his weakened body began to sputter as the adrenaline wore down and he felt himself weaken to the point of becoming totally limp in his hiding place, his eyes becoming heavy at the sudden absence of the steroid in his system. Later on he would berate himself for running like he did, but right now he just accepted the unexpected sleep that his body forced upon him.

Fisto sighed from where he sat in his chair within the Council chambers, shaking his head slowly in defeat.

"I am not sure what to do at this point," he admitted lowly, "The child has obvious intentions of improving himself, but the soul-healer's act seems to have him on a course of self-destruction. I have noted many odd habits with him – he still refuses to speak and he chooses to sleep under the bed instead of in it."

"Perhaps these are old habits formed with Zimereck," Shaak Ti suggested, her own mind spinning just slightly with the challenge that was Djibourdi.

"Hmm...too early, perhaps it was to bring him back to the Order. Vote, we shall, on -"

Yoda's input was suddenly silenced as the chamber doors opened, revealing another Jedi who silently strode into the center of the chamber and bowed. He looked a bit like a flight-risk even though he was well-kept, face tight with confusion.

"A thousand pardons, masters," he spoke in an even tone, and Windu kindly waved a hand as if to dismiss the apology.

"Not at all. What is it that you bring before the Council?"

The new figure hesitated and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

"I am requesting some advice, my masters."

A long silence filled the chamber as the Council members looked to one another – this particular Jedi was never one to seek out the advice of the entire council, usually only single people at a time, and they all already knew what it was that he was going to inquire on. Typically he figured things out on his own or with the consultation of his own former master, yet obviously he suddenly felt the need to approach the Council. Yoda was the first to speak.

"Continue, you shall."

"Yes, master," the Jedi responded with another bow, "I have been feeling a...presence, in my mind in recent days. I don't know this person, but I do know what he looks like...I...I apologize, it's hard to explain."

"Mmm understand, we do."

Their visitor looked dead shocked.

"You do?"

"Yes," Windu chimed in, "This person, who is it?"

"I don't know his name," was the response, "But he is a young boy – quite small. A red-skinned Togrutan boy with a white streak on his face. I've seen him a couple times, and even though I don't think he even notices I can feel him in my mind. He's..."

"Calling to you," Master Ti finished, sharing a wide-eyed look with her fellow Council-members.

"Quite unusual, this is," Yoda pondered as he raised a couple fingers to his chin in contemplation. It was indeed unusual, the only time a youngling called into the mind of an elder Jedi was either out of mistake and the elder was just an accidental contact, or it was a decision made by the Force itself. "First felt him within your mind, when did you?"

"Two days ago, master. Around mid-morning I heard a rather alarming cry in my mind, someone that was being faced with sheer terror – and right after I heard it the child came flying around a corner and darted out of sight like he was being chased by something, but no one was there."

Yoda glanced at Fisto, who gave a slight nod. Obviously this Jedi felt concerned that it was his own shields that were failing to protect his mind...yet anyone who reached out was met with the strong walls. This was a matter of fate.

"A request, we have of you."

"A request, master?"

"Yes," was the response from Fisto who sat up straighter, a broad smile playing on his lips.

Djibourdi fiddled aimlessly with the data-pad in his hand, twirling it rather mindlessly through his fingers. He had already memorized its content dutifully of his own accord and now sat, cross-legged, on the stone floor of the large and empty conference room by himself. He always aimed for this room when no one else was around – it had so many different data-pads on so many things that it was a gold mine of knowledge, and with no one around to keep his guard up around, he could read and learn to his heart's content.

He gave a half-hearted sigh. Of course he would have loved to spend his time in the library, but with so many people around it made him so incredibly nervous that it was pathetic. Using his abilities to keep an eye on one was fine, but watching all of them at once was far beyond exhausting. He may have recovered his ability to stand and walk, but he knew he was far from the physical condition needed to stand his ground if it came to a fight. What did he have to fear from the Jedi? He was one of them...right?

A shake of his own head was the answer. No. Maybe in the future, but not now. Jedi didn't feel fear over such trivial things like a touch on the shoulder or basic conversation... the Jedi were regal, as were the Chosen of yore. He must be the hiccup in the family line. The data-pad was placed on the ground gently and the padawan looked to the floor, allowing the feeling of helplessness to creep over him – until he felt it. The red head snapped up quickly, gold eyes scanning the room until they spotted the visitor who wasn't even through the door yet. The adult walked loosely, arms linked into each other as he strode slowly into the room. He kept his shoulders hanging tenseless, trying to make himself seem as passive as he could.

Nothing escaped the child who watched him approach. This man was well-built but not excessively muscled with long, white-silver hair tied loosely behind his head in a ponytail with some more wild strands framing his almost elegant face. Beneath the dark Jedi robes was un-scarred porcelain skin that shown a soft white that looked to be a reflection of many planets' moons... he couldn't have been older than his early thirties.

Flashing steely eyes met burning gold and a gentle smile came across the pale lips when the adult Jedi finally stopped about ten paces away from the weary child who sat as still as he could, as if trying to blend in with the tan flooring. In a fluid motion the Echani lowered himself to the floor in a cross-legged position, eyes never leaving those of the Togrutan who stared him down. He was far from intimidated...he knew that look.

"Hello, little one," the man finally spoke, sending goosebumps up the back of Djibourdi's neck at the perfectly even tone he used, "My name is Tombur...but I'm sure you already knew that, yes?"

The sharp eyes blinked twice, Djibourdi obviously not wanting to let the visitor out of his sight for even milliseconds at a time. It was enough of an answer – yes, he knew who this man was. He had never physically met him until this exact moment, but he had felt his presence the moment he had returned to the Temple. Djibourdi had been drawn to it... drawn to it like a moth to a flame, a flame that was surely ready to burst and kill the innocent moth who was so eager to get closer to the wonderful light. He searched the dark grey eyes for any hint of what the man was thinking...any hint of the anger that was surely there. He had to be angry, the Togrutan knew that he had broken so many rules by enjoying the light this man shared, but he had hoped he had been secretive enough to not be noticed. He had never done more than reach out a couple times and, the second that the man had given a cautious, gentle response Djibourdi had drawn back as if slapped.

"I know your name is Djibourdi," Tombur spoke again, the kind smile still there and his eyes still alight with a gentle affection directed at the nervous boy in front of him, "And I know you must be worried about me."

A slight nod.

"Don't worry. I am no enemy to you, and I hold no malice whatsoever toward you."

He frowned when the golden eyes turned straight down to the ground. This one seemed very determined to burn a hole straight through the multiple inches of stone with nothing but his eyes. Perhaps this needed a gentler touch.

"You're safe."

The younger eyes met his in a snap, the light there giving away, only for a second, the emotion of fear. For one his age, Djibourdi had such shields put up that it was next to impossible for the knight to see at all past the surface – and he certainly wasn't going to press against the incredibly heavy mental blocks. He was here to earn the trust and friendship of this child...and he knew how it felt.

"Do you know what that feels like?"

The eyes turned down again. No.

There were possibly still active bruises somewhere on the red skin, that would surely explain why his rather curious young friend was wearing not only the traditional Jedi robe but also a cloak and a high-collared shirt. Whether they were bruises from Zimereck or from Shili wasn't an immediately pressing piece of information, yet obviously those wounds were all fresh in the mind of the boy and it did matter. All of it mattered, but getting Djibourdi to actually reach out would be such a titanic fight that it would probably take months. This child was no fool. But neither was Tombur.

They seemed to be matched, wit for wit – two of a kind, more than the Togrutan realized now. Tombur couldn't help but feel his heart tear at the worried face. So much like himself. ...it was time to play the old game of chess. Togrutans were notoriously weary of strangers, but they were also notoriously curious. Luckily, he had thought ahead.

One white had moved incrementally to reach into a pocket of his robes but immediately froze when Djibourdi flinched slightly, the rib-cage rumbling grumbles sounding a warning that he was ready to bolt again.

"Shh...Elei menen," was the whisper that brought the rumblings to a halt, the hand slowly going to move again, "I am just reaching into my pocket to get something, nothing bad. I promise you."

He didn't miss the momentary flash of teeth – a threat grimace. He could understand. Grasping a hold of the object he was seeking Tombur drew it out of his pocket, calmly balancing the little ball in the palm of one hand. It obviously had the effect he had hoped for as the padawan's attention was immediately on it, although the slight raising of his eyebrow ridges clearly showed he had no idea why the knight would bring a random, clear ball with him.

"My own master brought me one of these when we met," the Echani explained calmly, keeping his hand still, "I found it to be quite the fascinating little gadget. It looks like a normal ball right now, correct?"

A blink of the golden eyes.

Tombur smiled, slowly bringing the little clear object down to almost ground level before giving a slight flick of his wrist, allowing it to roll out of his grip and across the floor toward Djibourdi. The moment it hit the ground the little orb lit up in an array of colors, flashing and gleaming brightly until the shaky red hand caught it (more out of sudden reaction that anything planned) and lifted it back off of the floor, and in that instant it went blank once again. The streaked face tilted in curiosity, logical eyes trying to dissect the tiny thing with little success. After a moment his head tilted back and he rolled the ball back, feeling a small, delighted smile reach his lips when it lit up and flashed happily. It was probably nothing more than micro-electronics tied into a clear motherboard but it was absolute joy to the padawan. The knight obviously knew that it was having the desired effect and gently rolled the ball back to him, watching him with a warm gaze as he examined it again before sending it back.

They did their little game of pass for at least ten minutes, both idly passing the flashing little orb back and forth to each other without any sign of growing weary of the pass-time. Once he was mostly sure that Djibourdi was much calmer with his presence Tombur decided to call an end to the game, capturing the ball once more and, concentrating slightly, used the Force to float the ball back over to what he hoped was his new friend. The Togrutan cautiously retrieved it, fixing him with a look.

"Why don't you keep it for now?" the knight suggested kindly to him, his answer being a miniscule happy twitch of the red lips.

Djibourdi cradled it in his thin hands as if it was the most precious thing he had ever been given, allowing himself to rub his thumbs over it a couple times before placing it incredibly lightly on the stone floor so as not to cause any damage to it. It saddened Tombur for a long moment as he watched the very thin child treat the little ball as if it were an incredibly valuable thing. Just how much did he go through that the Council forgot to mention?

Abuse, they had said, though the exact amount and nature were totally unknown. They had told him of the Endrati... and he himself had seen first-hand the devastating effect of someone trying to force him into submission. The silver eyes softened. He knew what it felt like to feel helpless...and his master had saved him from that. Maybe he could offer the same to this little one.

"Djibourdi?"

The Togrutan obediently looked to him when he called. Tombur tried to soften his gaze even more to soothe away the fear and weariness.

"I know that you have been hurt – look at me now," he pushed calmly when the eyes lowered. They hesitantly met his own again, "I know it was scary. I also know that others have tried to force you to do as they want, and they obviously did not have your best interest at heart. I am very sorry for that – you have no idea how sorry I am for them. Obviously your are quite the intelligent little boy...and I wanted to offer something to you."

The Echani raised his right arm, loosely stretching it out in front of him toward the padawan. The motion would have normally sent Djibourdi immediately into a defensive crouch, but this time he chose to stay still, watching the Jedi's every move – although now there were none to study. He hadn't moved sine his arm had stretched out and it floated absolutely still, one thin yet almost artistic hand flopping loosely at its end. Was he truly offering this?

"You can read people very well – I don't want you to have to second-guess me. Please, go ahead child – I have nothing to hide from you."

Steely eyes slid slowly shut, the porcelain skin of his face relaxing to a state of perfect calm as just one level of his mental shields shuddered in waiting. He was going to let Djibourdi in – just for a moment – in a testament to try and convince this shy child that there was nothing to worry about from him. It wasn't a move that was supported by the Jedi, making oneself vulnerable to a near-complete stranger, especially one who was as obviously intelligent as this one, but Djibourdi didn't exactly exemplify malice. If anything his stances screamed that he was afraid...but it took a trained...or rather, equal mind to understand that.

Djibourdi hesitated just slightly. He had gotten into the habit of studying people from afar, gauging their personalities and intentions based on their everyday carry-ons without himself ever impeding on them and causing disruption. No one had ever openly allowed him to enter any part of their minds. This man who sat in front of him must have tremendous control to loosen his shields and allow the padawan in and yet keep them raised enough to prevent anyone else from intruding on this moment. Finally settling himself Djibourdi cautiously raised himself to his knees and incrementally slid closer to the absolutely stoic and silent Jedi. After a steadying breath his own eyes slid closed and he reached his right hand forward, allowing both of their fingers to touch just barely – and he was swarmed with so much information it had him jumping back to the place where he had been before yet on his feet this time. His heart was pounding in his chest as his breath heaved, his legs twitching and making him shift his weight from foot to foot, back and forth, soft clicks and knickers giving away his sudden shock as he sorted through everything that he had just viewed over the course of about two seconds.

Memories...there had been memories. Some good, some horrid. There were scenes of battles like nothing he had ever seen – scenes of fatherly tenderness from some unknown man. But over all of this were intentions, the things that Djibourdi had gotten so very good at reading and seeing through the years...but he couldn't fully understand what it was that he had seen.

No malice, no contempt, no baiting along... if what he had seen was to be believed, this man actually held no ill-will...at least toward this child. That was hard to believe. Bright eyes spied the Jedi where he was now standing a little way further back from his previous place, having chosen to put just a bit more distance between them to help his charge stay calm. The Togrutan bowed his head just a bit, some soft rumbles passing from his lungs from his lips, making them shudder and twitch slightly with the passing air. Tombur knew that look.

"You see?"

He did, but he wasn't sure he was entirely ready to believe it yet. Two clicks happened to escape the younger as he took a half-step back at the sudden motion the Jedi made, slowly lowering himself down into a crouch.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Two more clicks.

"I would really like to be your friend."

His right arm extended itself once more, this time the pale hand opening itself palm-up in a silent invitation.

"If you would let me."

Djibourdi felt his lungs shudder as he studied this man – this very curious, gentle man. He was far from ready to create a bond with anyone but... he glanced behind him, his mind finding it slightly ironic that the light from the windows was blocked, making the floor and walls almost black. Getting close to anyone was horrifyingly intimidating, but choosing to stay alone was dark. And cold.

Tombur hadn't moved, not so much as a twitch... this would take extreme patience. He gave a silent gasp when Djibourdi actually took a step toward him. Then another. A third shaking step. The progress was slow but Tombur couldn't breathe, not even when the tiny child came to a stop three feet away from him, thin hands drawn up to his chest as though he was waiting for something to fly out of nowhere and hit him. The mesmerizing amber irises weren't focused on Tombur's face but rather his single, outstretched hand. In his mind the knight was begging him to take the final step –

Shakingly Djibourdi's left hand incrementally inched out from its place on his chest, reaching out – then hesitating – then reaching again. It must have taken at least a minute but finally their hands met, the more broad white hand gently enclosing the bony red one. He could actually feel the child's heartbeat through his palm and, using the leverage the contact gave him, Tombur calmly gave a soft tug, bringing the somewhat hesitant boy closer to him so he could wrap his other arm around the bony back. Amazingly the contact wasn't fought against and Djibourdi allowed himself to be folded into the loose embrace, hiding his face in the silken strands of hair and the white skin of the man's neck and collarbone. The soothing thrum of a strong heart hidden within the adult's body had him closing his eyes with a the slightest of smiles.

"I am going to help you."

* * *

It was an informed decision on the part of Tombur that perhaps a change of scenery would benefit the overly-shy child he now found himself in possession of. True, he had just come from Shili only days ago, but the somewhat crowded halls of the temple certainly did little to give him peace. The Council approved his request to move himself and the youngling to Naboo, given that they would receive notice every day on their progress. A month and a half wasn't exactly the amount of time Tombur had wished for, but it gave him at least an opportunity to work with the curious Togrutan. So here they sat, himself in the pilot's seat and little Djibourdi in a passenger's seat behind him, flying calmly to Naboo the day after last. They both only had a single satchel of things a piece.

Of course the child hadn't spoken a word since they had met, but from what Tombur was told that was far from odd. The Jedi glanced behind him. The sparkling gold eyes were watching the electric blue of hyperspace zoom by from where he obediently sat, strapped into the seat where the knight had left him with a soft blanket tossed over his tired body. Even the blanket hadn't moved, instead it had become a bit of a beloved object since two spindly hands had woven themselves into it firmly. Usually when traveling multiple hours with a child of any age would have him at his wits end...this one just made him want to laugh at how perfectly innocent he looked.

With a sudden lurch the ship transitioned out of hyperspace, revealing the always beautiful planet of Naboo before them. Arrangements had already been made and the knight guided the ship to the northeast horizon, with an ease of practice easing through the atmosphere and ever closer to the dense woodland below them. In the midst of the forest was a small clearing to which the ship was directed and made to land on the soft grass in front of a small wood-based cabin. Flipping multiple switches above his head Tombur ensured that the engines shut off before undoing his own safety belt, standing and stretching before making his way to the padawan.

"Hey bud," he whispered to the half-asleep child, trying to be blatantly obvious in his motion of grabbing the blanket and undoing the safety belt, "We're here. Time to go look at our home away from home."

The golden eyes blinked at him blearily and he couldn't help but chuckle – of course, he felt a bit guilty for waking the child up so early that morning to get here at this time, but the earlier they moved the easier the transition would be. There was so much more space out here compared to the Temple, and it was only the two of them. Help would be a few minutes away, but there was little thought that they would need it.

"Come on now."

Of course Djibourdi obeyed, getting to his feet somewhat unsteadily and blinking in the Naboo sunlight.

"Can you take your bag for me please?"

It was retrieved from the adult who held it out calmly for him and the padawan pulled the strap over his shoulder, eyes focused out the pilot's windows to the glaring sunlight outside.

"Come now."

He was quick to turn and obediently trot after the knight, standing one step closer to him that he had stood to anyone in the past while. This place was unfamiliar and being as...tired and weary as he was right now, whether he liked it or not he would have to rely on this one to provide at least the basics of protection until they reached their – cabin? He blinked. Yes, it was a cabin...but that actually made him happy. Cabins were nice and warm and comfy...and the birds twittering above his head made him want to leap and dart across this gorgeous grassy field at a moment's noticed. Maybe this wasn't a totally awful idea. Tombur entered the security code to the door and pushed it open, stepping inside and gently ushering the boy to follow him.

"C'mon in, buddy – why don't you go find your room while I find mine?"

No hesitation to explore was in Djibourdi and he was off that quickly, trotting from this end to that end of the large, tan-walled living room right before he headed down the hall, easily spotting the refresher, master bedroom...this one must be his, he noted at the smaller room, choosing to stand in the doorway and take it in. There was a light-grey carpeting on the floor versus the cherry hardwood in the hall, the walls the same light-tan color as the living area. There was a large, dented-outward window directly across from the door with holo-books standing on its sill to form a bit of a reading corner that had a desk nearby. A dresser and a small shelf also adorned the walls, and in the far left-hand back corner sat a rather comfortable looking bed dressed up with a creamy-grey colored comforter and pristine white pillows.

The padawan hesitated in the doorway, torn between wanting to dart over and throw himself onto the bed and to contain himself by tiptoeing over the plush carpeting and curling up under the warm bedding. He only took a moment more to decide and he expertly toed off his laceless shoes, carefully planting one foot on the carpeting and taking a step, bringing the other in as well. A happy half-giggle slipped through his lips and he danced around on the incredibly soft flooring, trotting over to put his bag on the bed – although instead of sitting on it he chose to plop down on the ground teasing the carpet fibers with his fingers. He understood exactly what these fibers were, but he hadn't felt something so plush under his feet since before the Endrati – he would have rather thrown himself onto a plush mat of grass, but this would do just as well. The skinnny body flopped to his right side, a content huff leaving his lungs at the soft tickling of the carpet against his cheek. A soft chuckle had his eyes jumping to the door, easily spotting the Echani man standing there with a light of mirth brightening his gaze. He was far enough away to be of little concern.

"You like that carpeting, buddy?"

Two or three soft brays was his response, heavy eyelids blinking slowly to illustrate the obvious fact that he was very near falling asleep.

"Why don't you climb into bed and take a nice nap? I'll wake you up in a little bit so we can eat lunch. If you need me don't hesitate to come get me. I'll be in the kitchen," the knight told him, pointing up the hall he had just come down.

After receiving a blink of recognition the Jedi quietly made his exit, calmly walking back to the tile-floored kitchen area. Absently he began searching the cupboards and pulled out whatever miscellaneous items he thought he could possibly use – two bowls, cooking utensils, a cutting board, knives...he didn't even know what was in this kitchen, let alone what he was going to be making! Something wholesome, Djibourdi looked like a walking twig and Tombur was going to have none of that nonsense; if the little one left with nothing else from their time together he was going to walk away at least twenty pounds heavier, even if it killed the knight with work. A quick glance in the refrigeration unit revealed an assortment of vegetables and lean meats and cheeses.

He decided on a simple dish of coated fish and vegetables, nothing heavy but also not loaded with carbohydrates. Humming a calming tune he gathered what he needed, setting it all out on the counter top before remembering a promise, reaching into the pocket of his satchel that was slung over a chair not far from him. Out came a holo-communicator and he placed it on the stone top of the island, slightly above the area he was working. Knowing it would be a moment before his friend picked up he entered the number, went to the sink to wash his hands, got the pans warmed on the stove, and oiled them – only after he did all that did the master actually answer his call.

"Ah, it's you Tombur," came the response from the adult human male, a broad grin lighting up his lightly worn and scarred face, "I'm assuming that since you're calling you got there safely?"

"We did, master," the Echani responded happily, pulling some of the fresh red fish meat out from its wrappings, "How are you feeling?"

"Better. How's the child?"

Tombur hesitated while he dropped the fish meat into the bowl of seasoning.

"He's alright physically just..."

"Scared," Warren finished for him, bringing his mug of tea to his lips and sipping gently before speaking again, "Remember that you were hardly one who jumped up and down when I first decided to help you. You were scared too."

"Yes," the knight conceded, dropping the fish into the pan, "I was scared of you, but this little one isn't scared, he's terrified. If I tap him on the elbow to grab his attention he pole-vaults through the ceiling at the touch, like I'm going to break his arm."

"Tom."

It was the hidden warning in his old master's voice that had him releasing what he was doing and quickly released the fear of failure into the Force.

"Tom, don't loose yourself in this now. You are there to help this youngster to get better, but you can't take it all from him."

No matter the age, Tombur's former master had the most uncanny knack for picking apart his thoughts, even without their Force connection and from systems away. He was right, though... he couldn't take it all...but that didn't mean he didn't want to.

"I know it's hard to see one so young to suffer so, but remember that he has to feel the pain in order to acknowledge and overcome it – and if I do remember correctly, you had almost the same opinion when we spoke last. The memories will scar, and they will hurt and be terrifying for him, but ultimately it's up to him and him alone if he wants to come out of this. You just need to be there when he needs you and be ready for what he's willing to give you."

The knight didn't respond from where he was chopping a root into pieces and adding it to the bowl of other miscellaneous vegetables he had next to him. When he had run out of things to chop he sighed, looking up again.

"I just remember how bad it was when you first tried to help – that's something I'd rather not relive. I'm just entirely sure what I should be doing with him. You at least were able to talk to me, he hasn't spoken a single word since I met him! I find myself torn between picking him up and letting him just struggle until he can't anymore and trying to get him to cross the distance on his own."

"You can't force him into anything," Warren warned, fingers curling around his mug, "If you force him, you'll lose him. As much as I hate to make the analogy... he's a prisoner of war, you are his salvation. If we leave his wounds to fester he will grow up cold and distant. You need to use your talent of learning – learn his quirks, his worries, his fears, his dreams. Lead him to the Force. Just show him that you mean him absolutely no harm, that you just want to be his friend. He will come to you."

"I wish I could just grab the apprehension and throw it away. I can't just tell him I'm a good guy and have him believe it."

Warren laughed at the almost childish statement, watching with proud eyes as the knight expertly prepared the food for himself and his charge.

"Of course not, Tom. If it was that easy it would have been done by now. You have to earn that trust, and it will be the hardest thing you ever do. But it will be worth it – you were."

He was amused to see his usually proud Tombur turn sheepish, and he grinned.

"And you were certainly not an easy one to get through too, you hard-head. I am still proud of you my friend. I'm sure you can help Djibourdi, and you know I'm always here if you need any advice."

"Thank you, master," Tombur told him fondly, sensing the inevitable end to the conversation and drawing near to the device to wave his goodbyes, "I will be in touch. May the Force be with you."

"And with you, my friend, as well as little Djibourdi. I look forward to our lunch together."

With that the call was ended and Tombur shook his head with amusement, plopping the communicator back into his satchel's pocket and then returning to the cooking meal. By the time he had everything cooked, portioned out, the counter cleared, and the table set, it had been just a little over an hour since he had left his charge to his nap. Making the final changes to his table set up he washed his hands once more and headed back down the hallway, entering the open doorway with every intention of waking up the slumbering Togrutan boy and bringing him to the kitchen to eat.

The bed was empty. His heart stopped for a long moment before it began once again pounding in his ears, stormy eyes widening as they darted to and fro, from corner to corner looking for the child. The smallest of movements under the bed frame caught his attention and he moved toward it, kneeling on the carpeted floor and leaning over to inspect the motion...and the knight could have sworn he felt his heart break clear in two. Djibourdi lay on his side, curled up, silently sleeping underneath the bed without so much as a blanket. His brow was furrowed ever so slightly in his sleep and he had his lower lip in between two rows of sharp teeth, unconsciously chewing it with worry over whatever he was seeing in his mind. Tombur didn't know what had scared his so bad as to want to sleep under the bed, but this couldn't go on – he deserved better!

With a grunt the Echani layed himself flat on his belly and scooted closer to the sleeping child.

"Djibourdi," he called out, trying to rouse the boy, "Djibourdi..."

Slowly he reached his hand out and lightly touched the red hand nearest him – and quickly retracted when the padawan started awake with a gasp, honey-colored eyes shooting open and his body immediately moving to get him to his feet...with the obvious obstacle of the bed frame above him. With a loud clang the sensitive montrals collided with the metal underside of the bed and Djibourdi let out a yelp, instantly curling back up with two hands holding his painful head.

"Oh, oh oh... oh goodness. C'mere big guy," Tombur cooed, grabbing the occupied child under his arms and carefully dragging him out from his hiding place. Without hesitation he began to sweep over the pain-filled child, looking for any open wounds while keeping one arm around him to keep him still, "Alright, alright buddy. Alright now...Lemme see."

No open wounds and no visible bruises, just the probable wildly ringing pain in the child's head. Tombur leaned down to look into the down-turned golden eyes, one hand trying to help him with the pain by stroking his knee. As sensitive as a Togrutan's montrals were, that had to be incredibly painful.

"I'm sorry, Djibourdi. I honestly didn't want to scare you."

He quirked an eyebrow when the boy grew suddenly still, eyelids relaxing over his eyes as a calm expression washed over his face. When the honey irises were exposed to light again they met the grinning face of the Echani.

"Good job."

The praise was given immediately. Through his strong connection with the Force Djibourdi had released his physical pain quickly and now sat blinking wide-eyed at the man who was suddenly much closer to him that he had remembered him being when he had fallen asleep. Tombur was obviously curious about the situation.

"Why were you under there, hmm?"

The eyes looked to the ground. Tombur leaned over to try and meet them.

"Did something scare you?"

No answer.

"I suppose the wall behind you keeps your back free...and your head free...and the bed above you – I get it!"

Djibourdi's lips twitched ever so slightly. So this one wasn't as dense as many of the other Jedi. That was good news...

"Djibourdi."

He obeyed the silent command and looked up, but only enough to see the man's chin and not look him in the eye – that would mean disrespect. It was enough for Tombur to ensure he was listening, and he picked his words carefully to say what he needed to.

"I just need to know: am I the reason you were under there?"

A miniscule shake of the head. Without meaning to the knight let go of a breath – the fact still was that this child was hard-wired to hide, and if the Jedi could get him out of his shell he would be untouchable – but just the fact that Tombur HADN'T been the cause of his hiding was a huge relief. It wasn't something that could go on forever, such a raw display of fear was so against the Jedi code it was blinding, but for the time being at least there was thin ice between the two of them and the Echani had to play his cards carefully.

"It's okay bud," he told the child fondly when his shoulders hunched, "I'm just a little worried, that's all. Whatcha say we eat some lunch, hmm?"

A slight nod and he took it as an affirmative, climbing to his feet and going to help the child who was already standing as well. Knowing by now that Djibourdi wouldn't lead the knight led the way to the dining area, gesturing to a chair that the padawan crawled up into. With minimal effort the knight pushed the chair closer to the table and crossed to his own seat, scooting closer to the table himself and pointing to the plate of food in front of the nervous padawan.

"You eat all of that now," he said mock-sternly, fixing the twig-like child with a look, "Or at least as much of it as you can. I made sure there were very few carbs there, so feel free to eat to your heart's content. Alright?"

Another bob of the head. At least, thus far, he was getting some kind of answer from the child, even if it was just a blink or a nodding head – he could work with that. He was no therapist, but he could sympathize to some point. Grasping the fork carefully between his fingers Tombur thoughtlessly plucked a piece of fish from his plate and brought it to his lips, taking a slow bite and chewing contemplatively. He glanced to his left where the padawan sat. He had nibbled on some of the vegetables mildly still had his eyes downcast toward the surface of the table, almost as though he was trying to be as quiet as possible as he ate.

"Djibourdi?"

A glance up, then back down.

"I'd rather you be well-fed than eat like a little mouse, sweetheart."

The off-red fingers twitched around the fork for a second, eyes still boring a hole into the surface of the table. Tombur let out a breath when the younger finally took a decent sized bite of fish and swallowed it, going for another. He had seen it before in P.O.W.s and orphans on many of the planets he and his army had freed – an adversity to eating anything after either having a bad experience with it or having limited supply of it. After one decent-sized bite they would normally discover just how hungry they really were and would eat anything they could get a hold of. Djibourdi may have been hungry, but he was smart enough to not go too fast. At least the last few months were in a hospital, Tombur mused as he began to eat again, so it wasn't that he was going to dwindle down to nothing if he didn't keep up the pace of his meals.

Fifteen minutes later Djibourdi sat, hands clasped together in his lap and head bowed with the plate, half-empty, left on the table. It was better than nothing.

"Done bud?"

A nod.

"Alright, why don't you go get some shoes on while I clean this up? We can go explore the woods a bit if you like."

He almost laughed aloud when wide golden eyes looked up, brightened with joy over the thought of going outside. So THAT was the way to this one's heart. That was most definitely manageable.

"Go ahead," he chuckled, watching the little child dart off down the hall and scamper into his room in search of his shoes.

By the time the mess on the table was effectively sorted through and the table wiped off the excited child was standing in his usual stance in the living area, casting a fleeting glimpse out the window. It did Tombur's heart good to see him so eager, he hadn't given so much as a giggle since they had met and it was so odd for one so young to be so cold – if this was the way to win him over then he and Djibourdi were far more alike than he had originally thought.

They made their way to the left of the cabin today (when in doubt, take Djibourdi to flowers, he though to himself) and Tombur had to admit that he had made the right choice in bringing him here and out of Coruscant. They had only been walking for ten minutes and already the younger's demeanor had shifted tremendously and had taken on an air of relaxation, even as he trotted eagerly from one side of their little walking path to the next and examining the different plants that sprouted up from logs and the ground. He could hear the happy rumbles that his charge was trying to hide from him and it made him just that much more excited for him. The knight stopped on a dime a half second after Djibourdi did.

The padawan had frozen where he had been, half step, head up and perked as he stared off intently to his right. The Echani followed his eyes and tried to spy whatever had caught his attention hidden amongst the bushes but couldn't see the animal until it jumped away, the hoofed herbivore darting off at the movement of the knight.

"How did you see that over there?"

Djibourdi shrugged.

Togrutans had been blessed with higher eyesight, hearing, and sense of smell, but never in the time he had spent around Togrutans had Tombur heard of an adolescent being able to pinpoint anything like that at such a distance before. He shook his head. He would have his hands full with this one. With a gentle push of his fingers against the cloth covered shoulder he signaled for them to move onward down the wooded path and Djibourdi complied, walking next to the adult who wanted to give a bit of a cheer at the fact that he was willing to share space with him. A few stray strands of white hair tickled his nose from the wind and he batted at them absently, stepping over yet another overly-large tree root and steeping out into the bright sunlight at the edge of the forest.

Now this was some nice scenery – a very nice little field. It was only maybe a half-mile across but it was filled with wild grasses and plants, some carrying bright-petaled flowers that twisted and danced to the tempo of the calming breeze that swept over the green blades on the ground. Dead center was a very old-looking but still beautiful tree, the only one out here, its mighty branches swaying to the breeze and moving as though to paint the blue sky with clouds. Three sides of the open field ended in tree line but the fourth, the far right-hand side, tapered off a sharp-edged hill and flowed downward to a larger plateau, accented with a small lake and waterfall on its end.

It was all here, all perfect, as if made just for them for that moment – and in the moment Tombur learned something about Djibourdi that would make all the difference. After a short glance at Tombur, asking permission, he was off faster than a bolt from a gun, darting around the field and tree with an ecstatic toss of his head. There he was, bolting here and there and whipping around and heading back again, happy knicks and whistles and brays showing exactly just how much he was enjoying this. He chased around two or three little insects that popped out of the grasses before trotting over to the tree and unceremoniously tossing himself onto a bed of the soft grass, bony chest heaving with exertion at the sudden and overwhelming amount of exercise. That amount of physical labor was overdoing it, but the little one's behavior gave Tombur the exact tool that he needed to help him get back to a comfortable physical level.

The wind tickled his scalp again and he understood what the Force told him, making his way to the tree next to Djibourdi and slowly sitting himself down on the grassy ground, pulling his legs into the all-too-familiar lotus and centering his mind. The calm came over him quickly like flood waters, blocking out the negative worry that had plagued his mind for the last few days and leading him to a level of peace and calm, allowing him to still smell the grass and air and hear the birds but not be disturbed by them in his relaxed state. His own master's thrumming aura was there in an instant, their physical bond gone but the bond of brothers still allowing them to stay connected at the distance they were apart. His old master's aura was the regal purple that he remembered it being and it was a methodically thrumming pulse, reminding him distinctly of a heartbeat. Tombur's was and always had been an off grey, just as flowing and calm as himself. Then there was the flicker in the distance, a stranger to the center of his mind who had never been there before.

Venturing closer he couldn't help but squint against the white light, crossing just a little more distance – and then it fled. Just as quickly as the milky white aura had appeared it was gone, jumping away cautiously just as he had seen the animal do not too long ago...

When Tombur opened his eyes again he felt a short stab of panic in noting that Djibourdi was gone... but when the branches above him shook he spotted the boy there, lounged in its arms and soaking in the rays of the sun.

Six planetary rotations had changed things significantly, the knight recalled in his mind as he eyed some of Djibourdi's astro-physics work on the datapad in front of him. The boy was very eager to learn and was very far ahead of his grade level, but outside of academics he was nothing but a fight. A fight, and a fighter honestly was this one. He wasn't blatantly refusing the knight's advances, but it was obvious that he was not willing to shake his fear-set habits. He still slept underneath his bed, refused to meet the Echani's eye, and it was a fight like none the man had ever endured to get the little child into the bath he had run. He had explained multiple times that it was just a bath, that the water wasn't more than a foot deep, that the tub had a bottom, that there was no current. When he had finally gotten his charge into the water Djibourdi held onto the sides of the tub until his orange-red knuckles turned a bloody white and he refused to let go, even when Tombur promised him he would be alright.

So water wasn't his friend. Apparently neither was food. At this exact moment Djibourdi was out front doing his herbology homework (identifying small clovers was far too mundane for Tombur, but if the Togrutan enjoyed it he certainly was not going to stop him). When he came back in they needed to have a talk. A serious one. Absently he had tidied up different areas of the cabin, venturing into Djibourdi's room and dusting the desk and window sill – when he found what he did. It wasn't the only one he found, and honestly it made him want to cry at how bad it made his heart hurt.

With a sigh he finished glancing over the paper and, seeing no obvious issues with it he submitted it to the professor back on Coruscant. He was steeling himself mentally for the conversation that would be coming up (though he was sure he would be the only one speaking, it would still take patience) and whatever kind of reaction he might get. He had perfect timing as the cabin's door came open then and shut quietly, soft footsteps marking Djibourdi's entrance into the living area and then over to where the knight was seated in the dining area.

"All done?"

With a nod the second datapad was handed to him and, giving it his signature he submitted the document before switching the device off and setting it on the table. Twisting himself around he faced the padawan, reaching out to grasp the spindly elbows with his fingers lightly.

"Dji, you and I have something we need to talk about, alright?"

The golden eyes widened and immediately fixed themselves on the floor tiles.

"You didn't do anything wrong," the Echani hastened to reassure him, "You've been doing a wonderful job. Let's just go to your room and talk."

Long digits turned the bony body toward his rooms and gave a slight nudge, urging him to move forward. The younger deposited his shoes outside the door before entering and seating himself lightly on the edge of the bed in accordance with the soft-spoken order by the knight who pulled the chair from the desk and settled it in front of the hunched body. Grabbing the box he had set up earlier he finally sat in the chair, taking a deep breath to gather himself before speaking.

"Djibourdi, look at me now."

Ever obedient, Djibourdi obeyed.

"Understand this: you are not in trouble. You haven't done anything to cause you to be in trouble. There is something that we do need to address though, little one, and the sooner we do that the sooner I can help you."

He didn't miss the small hands curling into his pant's legs, nor the slightly nervous chewing of his bottom lip. He was scared, and no matter how much he released into the Force more would take his place. Tombur wasn't trying to scare him, he just needed him to understand.

"You're not in trouble. What we need to talk about is this," Tombur told him, reaching into the box and pulling out a wrapped-up biscuit.

They had eaten some biscuits the night before with their dinner. He had found this one wrapped in a little cloth squished in amongst the books in a rather clever hiding place. It was by pure happenstance he had found it at all – along with the managa fruit that he had uncovered from its spot hidden inside the desk drawer. The last item he would save for a moment.

Djibourdi new he had been caught and immediately turned away, the white streak on his face turning the slightest pink as he flushed in distress. Tombur haphazardly tossed the biscuit back into the box, setting it on the shelf next to him for the time being. He leaned over to place his fingers on the bony arms, fully expecting the reaction he got – both arms shooting up and Djibourdi's head jumping back with wide eyes.

"Dji, you're not in trouble," Tombur told him sternly, fully laying his palms against the cloth-covered flesh, "You are not in trouble. But I need you to understand what I'm telling you."

He was alarmed to see tears beginning to pool in the widened eyes and began to move his fingers in calming circles where they gripped the bony arms. He had to get him to understand, he hadn't done anything wrong but this sort of behavior was incredibly worrying.

"No one's going to take it from you," he murmured, tipping his head down too find the now down-turned eyes, "Look at me."

Full of hesitation, Djibourdi did.

"No one's going to take it from you, honey. You don't have to hide food so you can eat – not anymore. I need you to understand that. You can eat and eat and eat any time you want, even at midnight – you don't need to hide it so you can eat. The food is always welcome to you when you need it, you don't need to hide it. I'm not going to keep it from you."

His heart snapped clean in two when one tear escaped the strangling grasp of Djibourdi's self control, but he couldn't contain himself anymore when the red lower lip quivered and the boy squeaked. Using his soft grip on the youngling's arms Tombur pulled him forward just enough to let him hide his face in the warm muscle of the knight's shoulder. He decided against embracing the child though he knew that may have been the best option – he hadn't meant to get this kind of reaction out of him, but it wasn't a completely horrible thing either. His first reaction was to tell him not to cry, but his master had always taught him otherwise. Let him cry, it could only help with the obvious pressure he was beginning to buckle under. It would probably only be that one tear, but one tear now was a huge leap forward in terms of getting him to let go.

"You're not in trouble, little one," he reiterated again, only moving his head enough to rest his cheek on the white little montrals, "I'm not angry or disappointed – I understand more than you think. You don't have to feel bad about it, it will just take some time to come to terms."

The child didn't make any sound save for his breathing and Tombur knew (with just a tad of frustration) that his true self had dodged the knight again – the stoic and emotionless facade was coming back up now. Trying to get him out of his shell was more complicated than any kind of coding or mission strategy he had ever faced before. He let out a breath of air atop the little head before leaning back just slightly to speak to the Togrutan.

"We have one more thing to discuss now."

Djibourdi gulped, watching the white-skinned man reach over to the box and stretch his hand into it – and his heart dropped like a stone to the pit of his stomach when he saw that it was the colorful, page-filled book that he had hidden so well... or he thought he had. Here we go, here comes the conversation he was dreading: how forbidden it was to have such an item, why it wasn't allowed for Jedi to harbor such things, why he should be releasing his emotions into the Force and not write them dow-

He jumped when the book was pressed into his surprised hands, two larger, warmer ones pressing on his own as if to make a point. He, for the first time, met the stormy eyes of the man in front of him.

"This is YOURS. And only yours," Tombur told him, emphasizing his words by gently squeezing the bony hands, "This book is yours. What's written in it is yours. The decision on what to do with it is yours. I will not read this or open it without your permission ever, and if that means that no one ever gets to see inside of it then so be it. It is yours, Dji, and it will stay that way."

It was the padawan's, and only his to decide what to do with it. Of course Tombur new what it was – a transitional object. It had to hold every secret that this little one ever had – ever hardship, every nightmare, every intimate inner thought, every admission of fear and guilt, but it was only Djibourdi's to decide what was to be done with it when the time came.

"Now Dji," the knight prompted after a moment, not letting the lax hands go just yet, "I need you to be a brave boy for me. Now tell me, are there more hiding places in here?"

With no hesitation, a nod.

"Will you show me?"

Another nod. There was progress.

When Djibourdi awoke one morning days later, he found himself stumbling frantically around his room, pulling the high-collared Jedi shirt on to hide his scars and pulling on a different pair of pants – not bothering with his insulin pump and darting down the hall only to take the left-hand turn into the kitchen and found himself crashing into a well-muscled torso.

"Ho – whoa there, Red," Tombur chuckled at him, stepping around him just long enough to set the plates of food on the table before turning and kneeling to meet Djibourdi's eyes, "What's the big rush?"

He had to laugh at the incredulous look on his face.

'Are you kidding?'

"Relax, relax. I let you sleep in," the knight told him, gesturing for him to get into his spot at the table, "We're going to eat some lunch then go look at something. I have a surprise for you...but first you'll have to get your clothes on right, Red."

A glance down and Djibourdi wanted to smack himself in the forehead. Only he could put on pants backward and not notice... but even so he was secretly enjoying the attention, and his new nickname. His skin had finally began to darken itself into its natural deep-red color (hence the nickname) and while Tombur may not have been the most creative man ever, the well meant nudging did help him. Now, as for loving surprises the knight was in first place. Every morning something new would be waiting – whether it was a new kind of lesson, a few new flowers on the table, a friendly game, a moment of understanding – it seemed the Echani was loaded with them up to his stark-white ears and loved to gallivant around and watch the look on the Togrutan's face. He was the grown-up equivalent of a kid in a candy store on this leave from war, and certainly he seemed to be enjoying it.

Having already eaten his own food the adult settled for placing some dishes in the automatic washer while mild mannerly and absently sipping his cup of room temperature kaff off and on throughout the process. He had learned through the past week and a half to not put any form of pressure on the adolescent seated at the table and gave him space, content to watch him from a distance. He definitely earned the nickname 'Red' – surely one day if he ever nicked himself they wouldn't be able to see the blood on the colored skin unless it just so happened to be on one of the lekku that currently rested around his face or the snow white streak on his face.

He hadn't hit puberty yet but he was surely close as the lengthening of the montrals and lekku gave indication, and hopefully that meant that he had the strength in him to begin to get well again physically. Emotionally he could be nursed along, and he did very well in his studies even outside the classroom with only Tombur to help him, but the knight really had nothing solid to go off of when it came to gauging where he was from a physical stand point. He had filled out a little around his ribs, the Echani had noted when he tried to convince him to climb into the tub for a bath the night before, but other than that he was so incredibly spindly that it was amazing that he was able to move around with the ease that he did.

Tombur had seen the bruises and scars, of course – certainly most of which had been caused by that blasted man before him, and it baffled him that they had lasted so long but it did him good to see them fading day by day. He was only allowed to wash the red back and arms, not his face or neck or legs, and when he saw the twin scars on the strong jugular veins he understood why. He was many things if not a man of purpose and knowledge, and he had taken it upon himself to try and look up information on the affliction that the little one had endured, but only found the most basic of logs and symptom charts.

He watched while the youngling took another small bite. The progress he had made those days ago with him had obviously stuck since Djibourdi was making many efforts to eat full meals and take the snacks offered to him, and up to this morning there had been no other indication of hidden food stuffs in the bedroom. That put them on the springboard to move forward and, given that the child put on a little more weight, his current guardian saw no trouble whatsoever of letting him run outside to his heart's content. For now it would be restricted to walking and calm playing, if only to try and save the small little pockets of calories and fats his body had to work with.

He set the now-empty mug into the machine and went to retrieve Djibourdi's empty plate from the table, giving him the chuckled instruction to go get dressed and cleaned up so they could head out. He had created a very special surprise today for his Red, something so simple that it was painful but that would also prove to be highly useful in the coming weeks to build him back up. From what he had seen just over the last week he had the most elegant build of any Togrutan he had ever seen and with the natural grace and speed he displayed thundering around in the field he had all the makings of a perfect charger...if not for his people's handicap. Only time would tell if his hunch was anywhere near correct.

They headed out into the cool aired day, walking down the now-familiar path toward their field. When they reached its edge Djibourdi hesitated, casting a glance to the man who just gave him a calming smile and a nudge forward, leading him toward the old tree through the still dew-covered blades of grass coating the ground. It wasn't until they were very near did Djibourdi finally spot what the man had done, and he couldn't help but feel the slightest twinge of excitement.

Earlier in the morning while the youngling slept Tombur had journeyed out to the field and, with a precision that only came from experience used his lightsaber to trim the grass around the mighty tree into a short-bladed track. He had managed to not cause any real damaged to the grasses and, using his handy little device, measured the distance around that the track ran. It was exactly an eighth of a mile (how had he managed that? ...he was just that good, he told himself) around and eight steps wide, more than enough for the two of them to be on it at the same time.

"Would you like to walk a bit, Red?" he prompted and got an eager nod, the child excited to scope out the little track.

There were fewer trip hazards on the small oval than the field around it, and knowing its distance was helpful in determining how far Djibourdi was able to go at once. Small trips to and fro in the cabin were good but not in terms of building physical stamina – right now it would just be a gentle walk for as far as he could muster, later it would be a fast walk to a jog, to a run, and beyond. Such a little thing would become instrumental to his health in the long run.

After seven rounds around the little track Djibourdi's step began to slow, and Tombur immediately laxed his own pace to remain next to him, reaching over a hand to tap his charge's arm. The slight touch was enough to alert him to an oddity that he immediately investigated, forcing a complete halt and touching the back of his spare hand to the red forehead that was beaded in sweat. A little too much, too soon – he should have known that this one would test the limits.

"Alright, that's enough for now."

Djibourdi was visibly disappointed and bowed his head, shifting his weight from one foot to the other aimlessly.

"We'll do it again tomorrow if you feel like it. There's no rush, Red," he was told before steering him over to flop on the ground under the large tree.

He gave no fight – Djibourdi was to the point already of not caring what it looked like that he had quick after such a short walk. His head was pounding, his whole body ached, even his arms that hadn't been used at all yelled at him to just fall back asleep. No one ever said that it would be easy to get back from where he had been, but he never knew that anything could be this kriffin hard! Not even a full mile could he walk and he thought he was going to pass out. Tombur could sense something wasn't quite right about his behavior and gently grasped the side of his head, shushing the sudden squeak and jump from the child before lightly pushing his lips against the quivering forehead, gauging the younger's body temperature. He was far too hot for it to be normal, even with his naturally elevated body temperature the raging heat coming out of his skin was not something to be ignored. Tombur pressed a light kiss to his forehead and stood, giving a gentle tug to pull the Togrutan shakily to his feet and catching him when he stumbled.

"Why didn't you tell me you felt bad Red? Hmm?"

The methodical diversion of eyes.

"We need to go back to the cabin. Come now," the knight prompted, beginning to head off toward their destination only to stop after three steps when he realized the child wasn't following him. Turning around he could see that indeed he hadn't moved, casting a longing look out across the field and frowning just slightly. That was the first time he hadn't hurriedly obeyed an order – was that good or bad?

"Djibourdi," Tombur spoke again, adding just the slightest edge to his tone that immediately got the younger's attention and sent him hurriedly scurrying to the knight's side and hunching his shoulders in a show of submission. The Echani leaned over to speak with him, "It's alright, I know you have to feel pretty bad right now... we'll come back and do this again, but you need a day of rest. Let's go back to the cabin."

This time when he started to walk the Togrutan did too, and it didn't escape the scrutinizing gaze of the knight that he chose to walk behind him, not beside.

"It sounds like nothing more than a nasty upper respiratory infection, Tom," Warren told him over the communicator from where he sat behind the dash of a small ship, "If he's running a hundred and four he's only four degrees high, and the lack of vomiting is a good sign that it shouldn't last too long."

"I've never seen anyone with a cold act this wiped out before," Tombur responded, sipping his kaff and sending a fleeting glance over to the slumbering youngling who was curled up under a mountain of blankets on the couch.

"Well, don't forget that he wasn't anywhere near a hundred percent to begin with. The constant moving from planet to planet and the stress of the situation can't have helped him. He needs rest – and so do you. If I recall correctly, you're on leave of duty anyway."

"I am, but I'm responsible for him."

"Remember my old friend, you have to be objective even if it seems impossible. He needs a crying shoulder but he also needs an adult to take care of him. Do you still want me to pay you a visit tomorrow? I've been planning to take some time off anyway."

Tombur jumped on the opportunity.

"Of course I do, master. It will do him good to be exposed to another person so he doesn't get used to just one. How long would you be staying?"

"Only a couple rotations, I don't want to be away from the ranks too long. I'm very eager to meet this curious little boy who's caught your heart."

The white face turned the slightest pink at the words, but he had to admit they were true – he had taken quite the liking to the boy.

"I'm not ready for a padawan yet, Warren."

"Who said anything about a padawan?" was the snide question marked with a wink from the human before the connection was terminated, leaving Tombur shaking his head at his old master's antics.

On the couch Djibourdi gave a slight cough in his sleep before wriggling deeper into his self-made cocoon as the tiny raindrops pattered on the walls and ceiling outside. It had started coming down shortly after they had gotten back and Djibourdi had changed into some soft pajamas Tombur had found in the dresser, and he called it just good vibes from the will of the Force that things had worked out how they were now. He had convinced the sick youth to lay on the couch next to a fake fireplace that projected the image of gentle flames because, even if it wasn't releasing warm air, his hunch had been correct that it would be enough to lull him to sleep. The resting place was advantageous to him in terms of keeping an eye on the sleeping one because, even if it slightly frustrated him to admit, he was worried for little Red. A cold now could be devastating for his long-term recovery, and he was sure that it was only made worse by his diabetes. It was his better judgment to void the insulin pump and keep an eye on it the long way around, every two hours rousing his charge to check his levels.

He was only four degrees high, yet it was enough to make him a miserable lump on the sofa. It couldn't help that he was very underweight and still recovering from his ordeal – he just couldn't seem to catch a break. Tombur perked up when the flushed face scrunched up in his sleep and he began to softly click, enough of a sound that the knight stood and crossed over to him and silently sat on the floor in front of him. The backs of two white fingers reached over to stroke over the tensed forehead and, to Tombur's surprise but ultimate relief, the stressed look almost immediately melted away without any kind of flinch from the still sleeping child. Setting himself to calmly stroke the red cheek now Tombur couldn't help but ponder.

This was just a tad bit odd. If he had been awake, most certainly the immediate reaction from Djibourdi to jump back as far as he could and throw his arms up in an apparent display of self-defense. Yet here, in the midst of the fever sleep, he didn't move, but instead welcomed and enjoyed the touch from the adult with no complaints or fear. His unconscious mind knew Tombur meant no harm and sought the comfort that was offered to him – so it was only his conscious mind, his immediate perception of everyone and everything that made him so adverse to everything. That was hardly significant to anyone who didn't understand what that meant, but it was huge to the knight who was fighting for his trust.

It meant he stood a fighting chance. He knew all about chances, he lead one of the two charging ranks in the Republic, the ones crazy and brave enough to run right into a wall of enemies with only a ray shield to guide them until the collided and dove right into the frenzied fight for their lives. They were all a force to be reckoned with if you so chose to meet your maker that day, and being a charger simply meant that you were one of the most incredibly brave people that ever existed. Given the grace and speed Djibourdi naturally possessed in his movements Tombur believed that in any other situation he would have been the enemy that no one would ever want to see thundering toward them, but as it was he highly doubted that future was for him. He would be great for something – he could probably win the war from a statistics standpoint with his intelligence and perseverance, or could even learn to be a heck of a medic for the men, but most likely not a charger.

The judgment wasn't really helped by his lax a gentle nature. True, most of Tombur's men were very kind folks who sought to look after one another until they hit that battlefield, but just watching Djibourdi chase little bugs and play in the fields showed he probably didn't have the ruthlessness he would need. While almost all chargers were fierce, almost excessively violent in their clashes with the armies of both living and metallic, Djibourdi took to reading a datapad or writing in his book or lolling without a care in the branches of a tree for hours on end. He wasn't lazy, he was just laid-back.

Of course, he was little still – very little. He still had a lot of growing to do, a lot to still overcome, and still a good chunk of himself to discover when he finally began to grow into himself. That was in the future, this was now, and right now he needed a steady and confident had to guide him, a warm nest of blankets to sleep in, and an open embrace to fall into.

In a sudden change the red face frowned and Djibourdi gave a quiet cough, rousing himself from his sleep to blink lethargically at the man seated in front of him. Choosing to not push the gauntlet Tombur retracted his fingers and leaned back just a bit.

"It's alright, you're okay bud. Go on back to sleep now," he prompted with just a hint of suggestion.

The way he was at this moment sleep was a welcome embrace for the child who accepted the help gratefully and fell back into slumber without complaint, leaving Tombur to his thoughts. That was certainly a better reaction than what he was expecting. A glance at the clock told him it was mid-afternoon...more than enough time to get some chores done.

When Tombur came to the waking world early the next morning he was greeted by the oddest of sensations, one he hadn't experienced since his own time as an apprentice under Warren in his younger years. The smell of breakfast foods floated from the kitchen are to tickle his nose – and it smelled so wonderful he couldn't help but roll himself out of bed, bring a brush through the tangled mess of snowy strands on his head, and head out of his bedroom door toward the kitchen area – and couldn't help but grin ear to ear at what he saw.

Little Djibourdi, perched on the edge of the counter, still wrapped up in one of his blankets was peering curiously into one of the many pans that sizzled and popped on the stove where the new adult, who the knight recognized immediately, stood stirring the contents with a spatula. They both looked over to him when they sensed his presence, one grinning broadly and the other fidgeting and shyly looking downward again. Without a moment's hesitation Tombur crossed the distance and exchanging a quick kiss on the cheek with his old master and pressed their foreheads together, an old greeting that had remained between them even after their times apart. He turned to Djibourdi next, giving a light tap to one of the fist that held his blanket in place.

"Feeling better, Red?"

A shy nod was his answer, and he looked to Warren with a raised brow.

"He wasn't too sure of me at first. We're good friends now, aren't we little one?" Warren gently teased the youth as he stirred the pans, getting a slight bob of the head, "Say 'yes we are. He's making me gualaberry pancakes, so he's okay in my book'."

He reached out to tap the white-striped nose and earned an airy giggle, Djibourdi tucking himself further into his blanket to hide his eyes. He jumped when the white hand of the Echani reached to feel his forehead.

"You're still a bit warm, but not as bad," he mused, "Must be the company."

"What can I say? I have the magic touch," the master shot back with mirth, turning off the stove and moving the food into bowls and onto new plates that sat atop the stone counter behind him.

They were moved to the dining area purposefully with the help of Tombur before the two returned to the kitchen, the Echani grabbing two mugs and a glass out of the cabinet above his head and setting them on the counter before filling the mugs with kaff from the brewer in front of him and then searching inside the refrigeration unit for something. Djibourdi watched with mild interest from his perch, in no hurry whatsoever to start moving again – he jumped visibly when Warren suddenly appeared in front of him and the human quickly sought to calm him.

"Easy now, little guy. I didn't mean to startle you," he told the overly shy child who ducked his head just a bit, only choosing to watch out of the corner of his eye.

This man seemed to be kind enough and had been so nice as to place him on his current comfortable perch, but that didn't mean that the little bit of guard he was still able to conjure would drop around either him or the knight anytime soon. Of course with the incessant, dull, crampy aches all over his body he couldn't climb down from the counter himself without surely hitting the ground hard, and to his surprise the Jedi in front of him seemed to understand. The clean-shaved face seemed frozen in time at that moment, the caramel colored hair framing his face just like Tombur's snowy locks often did, and it did well to ease the child's nerves just a bit. He was surprised when the master folded out his arms toward his current spot, hands palm up and lax as he tried to meet the darting golden eyes. He did something right.

"Ready?" was the simple question from the man and Tombur, who waited calmly from his new position in the entrance-way to the room, held his breath for the shortest of seconds.

With two soft knicks Djibourdi lifted his still folded arms underneath the blankets just enough to signal the affirmative and he was surprisingly relaxed (yet still held enough tension to show his blatant distrust) as two light-skinned hands carefully hooked him under his arms and lifted him up. He expected to be pulled off the counter and set on the floor to stand on his own, so when he suddenly found himself suspended in the muscled arms against a broad chest and shoulder he felt the familiar jolt of panic and immediately squeaked and began to put up a futile and weak struggle, using his bent arms as a barrier to keep his and his carrier's bodies from fully touching one another. He was too weak to win and Warren had him held securely on his hip, and he realized that it was ultimately futile...the fear demanded it to be so.

"Shh...shush suuse," the Jedi whispered to him as he struggled weakly and clicked in distress, rocking them both just slightly as he moved to the center of the kitchen space, "Shh. I'm not going to hurt you at all, I promise. Never, child. I know you don't feel well, I don't want you to use up your energy. Breakfast for you, then back to bed."

The child in his arms didn't relax at all at his words but the clicking did die down a bit, the feverish head compliantly flopping onto the the adult's collarbone letting the adult feel the extra heat the little body was making, his body still shaking with what the Jedi could only assume was fear. Tombur hadn't been exaggerating like he had thought – this one was so tiny, it was hard to believe he was a day over seven years old, and it wasn't helped by the fact that, even through the pajamas and fleece blanket he could feel the bony ribcage and backbone pressing against the red skin. Surely it must have been some form of growth disorder that kept him so small...or had he been without proper nutrition so long that it stunted his growth so severely? Just the thought made his stomach broil in anger and he quickly surrendered the emotion to the Force. He had assumed he would be entering a situation close to that he had experienced all those years ago with his little Tombur, but this seemed to be so far out of his own league that he wasn't sure what to do to help.

"You're safe with us," he whispered to the face hidden in his robes, tilting his head to press his cheek to the feverish temple before making his way toward Tombur, sharing a look with his former padawan.

"You weren't exaggerating," he told Tombur later as they sat on the front porch together, two new mugs of kaff held in their hands and steaming in the cool morning air, "He is tiny. I don't think I've ever seen someone his age look that little before, and he could stand to put on a good twenty or thirty pounds."

"I told you so. I'm worried every time I touch him I'm going to break a bone."

For a moment they shared a silence and it seemed that time had reversed itself a few years in that moment, both more than comfortable with the other's presence as they lounged on the glider, allowing the calming breeze to swing them back and forth. Little Djibourdi had only eaten a single pancake before both of his guardians decided that he should return to his rest and they had tucked him in on the couch, glancing in before they stepped outside to make sure he was resting comfortably. Warren took a soft draw of his kaff, allowing its smooth taste aided by the creamer to loosen his throat. Then he spoke.

"You're getting distracted, Tombur."

There was no disappointment to the tone, only the scrutinizing observation that his old master was so very infamous for. He couldn't deny it.

"I don't want to hurt him."

"You won't."

"How do you know?"

There was the hardened question, the one they both know had to be thrown out there.

"Because I know you," the master spoke, this time his voice sharpened with an edge of discipline, "I know you. I raised you. I know what you're capable of. And you are more capable of helping that little boy than anyone else I know."

"I don't think he wants help," Tombur responded, turning two of his fingers in a circle over his mug of kaff, absently watching the light brown liquid stir itself through his Force manipulation.

"I know he does. We're getting off the subject. What's the matter, Rabbit?"

Rabbit, his old nickname that he had so painstakingly earned when he had first been taught by Warren to bear the weight of the armor and lead his three columns. His natural abilities had him able to pull away from his chargers easily and he always was first to pummel into a wall of enemies quicker than a fleeing rabbit, easily dodging their blows and shots without much spare thought.

"It's just... I've had him with me now for two weeks, and every time I touch him he acts as though I'm about to do something horrible. I haven't been able to give him a simple hug without him panicking, yet he lets you in the cabin, lets you pick him up to put him on the counter, lets you hold him..."

"Tom, did you not see how he reacted to me?" the master asked him incredulously, floored at the fact that his old padawan had somehow missed the signs, "He was terrified of me. He is terrified of me. The only reason I could pick him up in the first place was because I asked if it was alright."

The Echani fixed him with a bewildered look.

"I never heard you ask."

"Not with words. This child speaks through action, so I did as well. If he needs something, he will ask. I just asked him for permission to come close by hold out my hand to him – if he says no, it means no. If he says yes, get close but don't push. It's going to be a fight, you will have to be very patient with him."

"Of course I'm going to be, master, it's just... even after all this time I haven't been able to get a single word out of him. I have to constantly request him to eat more than he feels like, otherwise he would eat less than a bird like this morning. The poor thing is absolutely terrified of baths. He sleeps under his bed because he's afraid of -"

Me, he wanted to say. Djibourdi was scared of him, terrified of him, so wary of him that when he would wake him in the morning he had to call his name from a distance to wake him up out of concern he would accidentally hurt himself again.

"'All this time'?" Warren repeated his friend's words, looking out into the distance, "You don't remember much from your childhood, do you Rabbit?"

He knew well that caught the Echani's attention and smiled bitterly – the memory was a mix of fondness and upset emotions, remembering everything that had happened in that month and a half had been branded in his mind forever.

"The day you came to me you were just a puny thing; not as small as little Red but certainly smaller than you should have been. Your left arm was still in the cast from the break and you were completely and adamantly determined to be nowhere near me – I had to get you to sit in the speeder with me by keeping my right hand in my pocket the whole time we flew."

He chuckled, taking a sip of his kaff.

"I remember it took you three weeks to look at me. On our twenty-third day together we had our first real meditation. At a month when you finally had the cast removed and had the durasteel bars taken out you finally said your first words to me. Do you remember what they were, Tom?"

"'Thank you'," the knight laughed, then grew suddenly serious as his eyes focused out in the distance, "I remember that conversation... I remember you ended our talk that night with 'I'm here to help you'..."

He trailed off, feeling the bite of tears only for a second before pushing it into the Force, relishing in his old master's presence that stroked his mind lightly.

"And I was," Warren clarified, "I was there the night you told me for the first time some of the things she did. I was there those times when you decided that you needed to be held and cry over the horrors that you had endured. I was there, Tom, and it took time. It didn't happen overnight. There were times I could have sworn you didn't want to be helped and that the best thing for you was to be sent to the Corps, but I couldn't see myself letting that happen. I understood what you felt more than you realized, and you understand more about Djibourdi than he knows. You came around, so will he."

"What I had happen to me was nothing compared to what he has faced," the knight argued, shaking his head, "Jira only had me for three months, Dji was in the hands of that Force-forsaken fool for a year and a half, and the only reason they even found out was because of the disease. I only dealt with excessive force, he had force, beatings, starvation, mental anguish... I don't want to think of what else."

His stomach churned and he lowered his cup.

"And you cannot change it now," Warren told him firmly, staring him down, "What happened to me was horrid, my master saved me. What happened to you was worse, I saved you. You cannot tell me that you feel nothing when you look at him. Zimereck was trying to turn him to the dark side, we both know that, and just the fact that he is still with us speaks volumes. He has overcome more than his fair share of hardship, and he chose you for a reason my dear boy. In time he will understand that you mean him no harm, but you know just as well as I do that the errors of a master are not easily forgotten...you will always bear the scars."

He turned his right arm upward, studying the old, layered scars that still remained on his wrists and forearm after almost thirty years. They were still glaring, but not nearly as hurtful.

"Scars are there for a reason, the Force uses them to show us what we've endured, and that we're not there anymore. I am not there anymore, neither are you. You understand his pain, even if he doesn't know that you do and that is the greatest accessory to have in a situation like this."

"Why did he choose me?" The Echani whispered almost despairingly as the wind tickled his unkempt hair.

"Maybe he didn't," his friend responded fondly, "The Force did. When it chooses to send you a blessing, you don't ask why it was sent. I am still here Rabbit and I don't plan to go anywhere anytime soon. I will help you with him, just as Master Tefo helped me with you. I know you can do it. If you succeed in this task, you will have the ultimate weapon against his foes and your alike; you will have the one thing that no one else does."

Before Tombur could question his words the master reached across and grasped his friend's chin, turning his head so their eyes met. When the words left his lips, it all seemed to make sense and the lines fell into place.

"His trust."

The snowy lips twitched into a small smile, his eyes saying what he could not.

"I believe him to be like you," Warren murmured, studying the silvery eyes in front of him that danced with light and knowledge far beyond his years, "You were very hard to read, very stand-offish for the longest time until I figured you out. It's your eyes that spoke for you, they spoke volumes...his do as well."

They both leaned back, Tombur not yet ready to rid the smile from his face.

"I can't imagine him in a few years. Whoever gets him as a padawan will be very blessed, he is a very good child."

"He is," was the agreement, "surely he'll make a fine knight one day. Perhaps he has the making of a charger in him."

Tombur couldn't help but give a snort.

"You don't think so. Why not?"

"He is too little, too kind-hearted," the Echani said in a bit of a 'duh' tone as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy, "And he is a Togrutan."

"You're referring to his endurance," Warren responded matter-of-factly, leaning back, "Of course if he falls into the category with all of his people you would be correct, but let us not forget that we are dealing with a very special child here."

"You cannot be serious. Togrutans are built for speed, they're made to stalk up on prey and bolt after them over short distances. Too long of a run and they will overheat and die – we're talking any longer than three quarters of a mile at flat-out speed and that's their record. Most can't go far over a quarter and the only time they get the distance is moving at half-speed, about the same pace as everyone else."

"They have a speed in them that would put us to shame," the master clarified, "And you cannot deny that he has to be hiding a lot of muscle under that baby fat – a lot of muscle that he can put to good use once we build it up."

"It isn't muscle yet. Togrutans are built for speed, not distance. You'd be asking him to do something that his kind simply cannot do. They can't take the distances that we do at the speed that we do them – humans and Echani have endurance, Togrutans have speed, there is no happy medium unless you're suggesting that he somehow magically has both – which again, is an anatomical impossibility."

"Not impossibility, just incredibly low probability. What you are doing right now many believe is unlikely, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. You said yourself that he runs faster than lightning."

"And then crashes to the ground out of breath, as he should."

"Because he is near emaciated and is still a baby. Don't discount his abilities before you see them Tom," the master told him with a glimmer in his eye, more trying to win the argument than he was trying to prove a point.

He got his reward when the silver eyes rolled good naturedly and his old padawan offered no argument in return to his statement. They both started when a little body appeared suddenly out of the doorway to Warren's left, but both smiled when they saw Djibourdi still wrapped up in his blanket and blinking at them shyly without making a sound – they must have lost track of time.

"Hello little one," Warren greeted, noticing the fondness creep upon him at just how alike this one tried to disappear just like Tombur used to, "Feeling any better?"

A miniscule nod. His face was still drawn and he was obviously hardly standing but he still put up the facade anyway in determination to fool them, choosing to watch the little birds that fluttered here and there past the roof of the porch.

"I have an idea," Warren suddenly spoke, turning to Tombur, "Why don't you take him inside and I'll meet you."

It was his only warning before he was gone, only his mug and a wisp of air marking his exit. Tombur couldn't help but shake his head. Some things would never change.

"Inside now, Red," he ushered calmly, trying not to seem in a hurry, "You'll catch your death out here."

At mid-afternoon the next day a new hand-made wind chime hung leisurely from the railing, clattering lightly in the Naboo breeze that carried the soft scents of trees and grass with it. Djibourdi handed the datapad to Tombur who sat at the dining room table with Warren, both having just discussed their ranks when he had come back in the room to them. He had finished the assignment from his teachers on Coruscant and, satisfied once Tombur signed it and sent it off, he stood in his normal waiting position for what they would request he do next. It was like this every day, every time. At least he got his work done.

When night fell and the hour of sleep drew near he gave one last stroke of the old pen in his precious book before returning it to its hiding place and beginning to prepare himself for bed when a light knock came at the door. Immediately he stood in his waiting position with his eyes fixed at the floor and Tombur entered and crossed the carpeted distance between them to meet the younger, crouching down to signal he meant no harm.

"Djibourdi," he called out lightly, "I need you to look at me now."

A pink lip darted nervously over the red lips before the gold eyes did as requested, just barely looking up enough to focus on the man's nose. It wasn't entirely what was being requested of him but it would have to be enough for now; he would do anything to avoid meeting the steely eyes that were surely burning with anger.

"We need to talk, big guy," Tombur told him, folding his legs so he was completely kneeling in front of the tensed child.

In one of his hands he held a datapad, and Djibourdi's heart plummeted for the second time since they had come here. He had gone and done it now, he knew he should have lied on that blasted self-review and not be so honest...but he was supposed to be honest – but he was in trouble, oh kriffin hells, he was `in troub-

"Red!"

He froze suddenly, astonished to find that he wasn't in the position he last remembered standing in and only after a couple seconds did he realize he had been shuffling around unconsciously as he tried to determine whether or not he needed to run.

"Relax, bud, relax...it's okay, it's not a huge deal. You're going to be okay, you're perfectly fine," Tombur told him, holding out one hand a couple inches away from the fidgeting child as though he was fighting with himself on whether or not to touch him.

Every time he focused directly on Djibourdi and tried to fix a simple little problem or erase some ridiculous notion he almost instantly fell into a panic mode like this. All he had to do was stand within two feet of him and he began to shudder and shake and stare at him out of the corner of wide eyes, and the knight could only imagine the terror spiking through him right at this moment.

"Djibourdi, you need to breathe now," he prompted when he realized that when the youngling had frozen so had his lungs, and still his charge wasn't focused on him. He was focused on his outstretched hand.

The golden eyes were locked on the loose white hand that hovered close to him, almost as if it were some wild creature getting ready to attack him at any millisecond. Tombur seemed to catch on and lowered it back to his side, already seeing the beginnings of a panic attack.

"Dji, breathe," he encouraged, and felt himself take a breath when the younger finally did, "Good boy. Can you do that again?"

Djibourdi did, eyes wide and now fixated on the knight's face.

"You're going to be just fine," he was promised again, "We just have to talk about something, alright? Nothing else."

Slowly Tombur brought the datapad back up, turned it on, unlocked it, and turned it around so the child could see the screen. Of course the Togrutan already knew what it was before he saw what was on the screen but he felt obliged to look at it anyway for the sake of not angering his guardian further and he took in the screen, quite familiar with the red bars that it showed to him.

"This was the personal evaluation that Master Plie sent to you. You were supposed to evaluate yourself on your progress outside of your academic classes and you gave yourself a zero – no points anywhere. Why is that?"

His answer were four clicks and rumblings brays as the child began to move nervously again, both hands curling up and being raised toward his face in a defense of his throat. He was hard-wired.

"Relax, big guy. I just need to know why you think that you're failing – why you gave yourself no points whatsoever. Do you think that's what you deserve?"

The smallest of nods was his answer as his charge took a step back, adding the slightest bit of distance between their current positions. He knew it had to come to a point where the knight's anger would take over, there had to be a split second of warning before he would have to bolt and run with everything he had in him. It was what he deserved. He hadn't accomplished anything since returning to Coruscant and then meeting Tombur. He was failing to get rid of his fear, failing to get any stronger, failing to become the Jedi that he knew had to be locked within him – he had surrendered a future with Eddy to heed the call of the Force and he was failing.

"Djibourdi," Tombur pressed, and it came out almost as a question as he hid the datapad in his pocket again, holding his hands up loosely, "Nice and easy, you're fine. I don't think you're failing at all munchkin, I think you're doing very well given the situation. You have a lot to deal with and I know it's hard to understand, but I do get it. I do understand..."

If his words were meant to portray calm they fell on deaf ears. Another tiny step back and a gruff huff later the look of fear hadn't left him, it was pushing him more and more to get out of his current situation, to run and dart and avoid this confrontation. Confrontation was the mother of his fear, any at all had him immediately falling into this mode without another thought to the subject, flight taking over his initial choice of fight – oh he wanted to level anyone who reached to hurt him but he knew it wasn't possible. Should the adult so choose to allow his anger to take over the padawan knew he didn't stand a snowball's chance on Mustafar of defending himself. He was a quarter of the knight's weight, half his height, and hardly had the endurance to put up any kind of fight or even if he chose to bolt make it further than the front door.

The Force whispered to him to be calm, to have peace, to relax. That Tombur meant him no harm at all and that it was alright to trust him, yet his instincts and his gut told him to keep his guard up and to protect himself by whatever means necessary...but he didn't want to overstep yet another boundary and make his current situation worse. Another huff escaped him and he shuffled – it wasn't a means of intimidation, it was all he could do to keep from allowing the feeling of panic to take over and make his decisions for him. Tombur moved an inch closer, and in response Djibourdi moved four inches back. When the Echani heard the soft chittering sounds and watched the white head duck down just enough for the child to continue to watch him still, he had to take a moment to center himself.

It was a sound of submission. It was good that there was no question who was in charge of this situation, but just the idea that the padawan felt the need to display such submission to him in an effort to, in his mind, avoid the fight that was to come had Tombur getting so increasingly angry it was palpable. It was not anger at Djibourdi (oh Force of course not), his rage was at the Sith-spit of a man who had sunk his ragged claws into the youngling for so long that he seemed to live in perpetual fear. Warren's presence in the living area quickly reminded him not to condone the emotion and he released it to the Force... just obviously not fast enough. He hardly had enough reaction time to reach out and catch the fleeing Togrutan boy but he managed, his right arm snagging the lithe body around his waist and, with use of his superior might, was able to swing the youngling around to his chest. In one decisive motion he pulled the child to him and climbed to his feet, hardly feeling the weak hits of the flailing hands that tugged at the back of his shirt. So much like that morning little Red was held on his hip with the little twig arms wrapped around his neck where Tombur made them stay, his hold more tense than Warren had used earlier that day with him.

Djibourdi had obviously felt the twinge of anger through the Force and reacted naturally to it, believing it to be directed at himself. Now chittered loudly in between quick huffs of air from where his face was currently resting on the cloth of Tombur's tunic, the adrenaline-driven movement of his limbs growing more and more weak by the second. His pounding heartbeat could be felt against the adults chest and in an effort to calm him Tombur began a gentle walk to and fro, swinging his hips just enough to produce the rocking motion he needed.

"You're alright, you're safe suuse," he the child whose fight had finally run out, "I wasn't angry at you, Red – you haven't done anything wrong! Nothing wrong at all, you don't have to be scared. I need to you breathe with me now."

The chittering had yet to die down – the child was begging for mercy from him. He wasn't scared, he was terrified, and he was terrified of the man who was holding him. To say that the mere idea hurt more than any wound he had ever received was a rather severe understatement, but he couldn't honestly blame the boy for the reaction at all.

"Can you breath with me, Red?" He prompted, exaggerating his breaths so his chest expanded widely against the tense body he held.

He tried, he really did – trying to slow the quick, shallow breaths born of panic to match the deeper one the much larger male produced but was only able to cut the speed of the attack in half. His lungs began to hiccup and he felt himself tremble in effort. Tombur seemed to understand and reacted, swiftly moving his grip to get a hold under the bony armpits. The sudden motion had Djibourdi releasing his hold on the elder's tunic and found himself held at arms length suddenly – he let out a strangled yelp and found the energy to struggle.

"Shh-shh Red you're okay!" he was quickly reassured and found himself rearranged against the muscled body, his arms now pulled more fully over the broad shoulders to help open his lungs, "You're just fine. Breathe with me now, breathe."

The exaggerated breaths began again. Djibourdi jumped when three white fingers slid under his tied back montrals and found the little bundle of nerves at the base of his skull yet relaxed at the feeling of the sudden light pressure and gentle messaging that followed. Tombur had done his research well once he had agreed to take on the task of Djibourdi's care, and now he was incredibly glad that he had as the motion did absolute wonders to nurse away the panic that only two minutes ago had completely taken over the intelligent mind of the youngling he held.

"That's my good boy," he encouraged to the huffing little one. His breathing hadn't evened out entirely but it was no longer the overly-ragged hyperventilation that he had been dealing with before and, leaning his head to the side, he rested his cheek in between the tiny montrals, "No more fear, sweet child. You can be scared of the whole wide galaxy, but don't be scared of me."

Tombur felt himself freeze for just a split second when he felt two small hands wind themselves into the cloth on his back – there was no desperation in the act, just the slightest change in the bony body to climb just a little farther up onto the muscle chest and shoulder. He wanted to be close, he wanted to be held. In that moment something shifted a millimeter toward the better side of things and just for a short time the fear dissipated, the chittering finally stopped and Djibourdi went limp against him. The broadest smile decorated the snowy lips that moved with his head to place the lightest of kisses to the tiny head as it moved to snuggle into his neck incredibly timidly. The knight's response was to rest his chin protectively on the shy child's skull, humming in a low tone. Red spoke in sounds, Tombur had done his research. He could speak it too.

He was trying his darnedest to match the sound of a Togrutan parent's response to an upset child and he much have fallen slightly near the mark, feeling the white-striped nose nuzzle his neck. That was a signal too – and one Tombur had held his breath for for two weeks.

"I see you, Djibourdi," he told the child in a warm tone, his peripheral vision spotting Warren in the doorway.

He looked so proud that he was going to burst at the seams as he crossed the expanse between them, reaching out his right hand to touch his old padawan's back in a signal off support. With more caution and hesitance slowly did the same to the child he so protectively held, putting just the slightest bit of pressure to the back of the small right arm. Djibourdi turned his head just enough to look at him but didn't make a peep, still perfectly relaxed under Tombur's ministrations on his neck. Warren took it as a signal that he was safe to move and he did, slowly trailing one broad hand to move down the spiny back to begin a gentle sweep over the fabric that guarded it and almost laughing at the appreciative hum that escaped the relaxed child. Tombur spoke again.

"We see you right now, Red. And you are not failing."

By the time Tombur assumed it safe to put him down the padawan was fast sleep against him, giving the knight a great sense of accomplishment that he trusted his holder enough to sleep. He was secretly unwilling to let him go and only did so to appease his old master's silent expectations of not getting too attached, snugly tucking the comforter and blanket around his prone form. There was progress.

Warren left early the next morning before he was awake, promising his old padawan that he would be back by the end of his leave to see the progress first-hand. After seeing him off Tombur sat himself in an open space in the living area, deciding that while his charge slept off the effects of his attack the night before he would use the spare time to clear his mind and correct himself. Settling into the flow of the Force he inevitably relaxed and let it carry him as it chose, soft wisps of its essence acting as air to push his mind lightly around its being. It was good to be able to feel himself settle again and be at the mercy of the thing he trusted without question... it was nice to feel the ultimate love and care it provided without question. He became curious when it tugged at him to follow which he did of course, and it led him through large expanses of his mind before stopping cold. Had the lost focus? No, he was still within the Force...

Another presence was here, another being who was trying to remain hidden from him that the Force was pointing out to him and he moved forward to whomever they were. This was not a cruel or unwelcome presence, it was a fast-moving, fleeting one that seemed too nervous to sit still, nervous about being caught out here. As he drew closer he recognized it immediately and reached to the increasing bright, white light with a kind invitation and secretly wanting to beg him to come closer... and then on his own, Djibourdi accepted his help, grasping onto the silvery beacon that was Tombur and drawing so close that the knight could feel him. He had just forged a bond between them, he realized when he sent a caring thought into the white light and it thrummed in response, he had just formed a bond with the most pure aura he had ever felt and he felt a rush of cool sweep over his mind.

Slowly the tempered eyes opened and widened when they took in the form of Djibourdi cross-legged on the floor in front of him doing the same. Flaxen eyes met steely for a long moment then looked away, a slight of smile darting across the red lips in response to the astonishment that was reflected in Tombur's eyes. As if to test the water the Echani held out his hand toward the child with no pressure and, after a long second of hesitation it was taken, the red digits and palm easily being tucked into the white ones that gently closed in a soft grip.

"Thank you for trusting me with that, Red," Tombur spoke after a moment, their hands still entwined and lightly held between them, "I won't break your trust."

There was a hesitant, feather-light touch to his mind and he responded immediately with a rush of warm caring. He was more than amused when Djibourdi blushed and looked down again – it wasn't a full bond yet, but it was enough for him to reinforce what he was trying to tell the child all this time. He wasn't out of the woods just yet.

It did surprise him just how much strength this one had in him, he admitted to himself later as he watched the skinny padawan walk around the track for a tenth time, going at more than a moderate pace. Such feeble exercise would have been excessively light for most but it was more than he worried the weak Togrutan's body could take... but with every step his body grew stronger, he grew more muscle, and his mentality improved. If anyone understood the benefit of this it was Tombur. He knew how it went – it was incredibly difficult to begin but once you got into it, once you began to build yourself up, it would help you out in more ways than getting your body healthy. Once the body got stronger so did the mind, it would become filled with determination and the ability to think that you were better, that you were stronger than the opponents who rushed at you. In his situation Djibourdi had a heck of a lot of distance to cover, yet with every single step he displayed his determination to get there. The Echani would bring him out here whenever possible, he vowed, and once he believed him to be in good enough shape he would see exactly what he was working with.

He remembered from when he was young that Warren took to swimming a lot with him. It was a lax exercise that made movement easier yet was great for building muscle, but that didn't seem to be a valid option as Djibourdi stood on the bank that evening as the knight swam across the lake. The adult had thought ahead and brought some swim trunks and shirts with them to the field that afternoon for this specific reason. The water here was remarkably clear and cool and it did wonders to soothe his frayed nerves... but it obviously had the opposite reaction on Red who stood on the high bank, shifting two or three feet back and forth. He was watching the water as if he believed it was ready to reach out and grab him, his lips twitching in a threat-grimace to it as he released half-growls in testament to his nervousness. What in the galaxy could have made him so afraid of water Tombur couldn't help but wonder, and when he felt the extremely palpable fear that flooded his mind from their bond made him absolutely certain that he wasn't going to force him into it. It was a fight to get him into the garden tub in the cabin when it was less than a quarter full; this water was at least four feet deep and obviously far too intimidating.

The Echani pulled himself onto the bank with a grunt, sitting on the edge. There was no gentle drop into this lake, it was all from ground level to four feet almost immediately after you left the bank. Djibourdi refused to get anywhere near him until he was a good ten feet away from its edge and even then he was still letting out worried knicks as he looked at his wet clothes.

"It's alright," Tombur assured him with a smile, noting the apprehension, "It's just a little water, that's all. Nothing to be worried about."

It was to the younger, he rediscovered at the cabin. Djibourdi still clung to the sides of the garden tub as if his very life depended on it even though the water only reached up to his sunken navel as he sat in it, his red knuckles and fingers a ghostly white by the time the knight (who was grateful he had thought ahead and taken a shower himself before hand) rinsed the baby-formulated soap off his back with water from the tub; his fingers danced over the ghostly remains of scars from who-knew-what that marred the red skin and he gave a sigh at the thoughts in his mind that he guarded from their bond. The padawan's hold only relinquished when he was lifted out of the tub and given a towel to dry himself with – and even then he sent the most raw, potent, worrying stares to the foot of water that slowly slipped down the drain. Tombur waited until he was dressed before getting back down to his knees to speak with him.

"It's just water, Red. Why are you so worried about it? Hmm?"

Djibourdi only pointed shakily to the draining water and Tombur followed his finger to the water culminating and pouring down the drain. He shook his head lightly when he looked back to the child.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand..."

His only answer then was a dismayed head shake and Djibourdi fell to his old habit of looking down before jumping when two larger fingers tapped his chin to get him to look back up. Tombur did that every time he would look down. He didn't need to do that anymore, he didn't need to be afraid of him.

"Why are you scared of the water?"

He never got a definite answer. It was true that many Togrutans couldn't swim incredibly well. They were built for running, for chasing, for hunting game that darted across the land at blistering speeds. They could fish fairly well but their strengths laid on the surface, not underwater... but not knowing how to swim shouldn't have caused the reactions he was getting at just trying to give the little boy a bath. The water was seemingly haunting him – and his dreams.

At two in the morning Tombur awoke with a start and immediately grabbed his lightsaber that stood on his nightstand, scanning the room for any sign of what woke him only to find nothing. Furrowing his brow in confusion he tried his link with Djibourdi... and found it full of confusion, full of shame, full of anxiety. The knight frowned as he stood up and silently walked to his open door, taking the left to go to Djibourdi's room – and saw something he wasn't quite expecting to see. The bed had been stripped bare down to the mattress, and there was no sign of the little padawan anywhere. A sound from the laundry room near the kitchen had him heading off in that direction and when he rounded the corner to look into the washroom he could have sworn he wanted to bawl. He had found little Djibourdi who looked completely miserable as he struggled to fit the messed comforter, sheet, and sleep clothes into the clothes washing machine – Just taking that in and the fact that he was now in a pair of kata pants and a long-sleeved shirt told him all he needed to know as he stepped closer.

Having been so full of distress the Togrutan hadn't noted his presence until that second (that was evidence that he was distraught. Normal circumstances would have him knowing that the knight was awake the moment he crawled out of bed). When the flaxen eyes spotted him he instantly let go of the material he had been struggling to lift and hunched his shoulders, his chin shaking badly as he fought off his tears. Now Tombur new about it, he couldn't hide the shame anymore. He sniffled.

"Dji," Tombur called from six paces away where he had knelt down, holding out his arms, "Come here, little one. It's okay."

He noticed the heavy hesitation – they had a long way to go yet with this.

"Come here, honey."

That time he did, trotting over and allowing the muscled arms to lightly close around him.

"It's alright. It could happen to anyone. Did you have a bad dream?"

The most hesitant affirmative nod was felt against his shoulder and Djibourdi drew back, wanting to disappear into the floor our of embarrassment. Tombur didn't allow it to manifest itself as a big deal (although it really was. Djibourdi was hesitant, he wasn't one to be easily shaken outside of physical contact and any nightmare that could shake him so bad as to make him wet the bed was something to be very concerned about. He was still so young to be dealing with such things). He had promised to keep it quiet but he had run into one a many of his chargers in similar situations, the pressures of war torturing their minds and right now little Djibourdi looked so much like his men that had severe cases of PTSD.

"Did you clean yourself up?" he pressed gently, getting a nod.

"Have new underwear on?"

Another nod.

"Alright, come on," Tombur prompted him as he got to his feet, holding out a hand that the padawan grasped shakily and gave a soft tug toward the hall.

Djibourdi followed obediently but stopped dead when Tombur started to pull him into the knight's bedroom and he felt the cold grip of fear rush over him, not wanting to go one step further.

"Red, it's alright. You're just going to sleep in here for a while."

A violent shake of the white head had him leaning down.

"Why not?"

Another shake and a shot of terror through their bond had him reconsidering and he did so with a sigh.

"You need your rest," he told him matter-of-factly, "If I put you on the couch do you promise to try and sleep?"

Soon enough there was the child, curled up by the fake fire and sleeping restlessly as Tombur set about cleaning the mattress and the soiled covers, being overly-cautious in glancing in on him every ten minutes. When he was asked if he wanted to talk about the dream he could of sworn the boy was going to pass out on him so he let it go without argument just for the sake of Red getting some more sleep and not getting ill again.

A glance at the clock had him realizing it was now four o'clock in the morning and, finally having sufficiently washed everything and re-fixed the padawan's bed, officially deciding that he wouldn't get back to sleep he made up his mind. Going to his room he pulled out his running uniform, switching out of his sleeping clothes and into the new garments and flipping his head forward to catch his wild white hair in his hands and pull it into a ponytail that was securely fastened behind his skull. The Council had been correct that he needed time away from the battle field – they hadn't made the decision based on any physical thing, but instead that he had begun to get a haunted look about him after losing so many men without a fleeting chance to save them. His columns were dangerous, they were beyond deadly; they were the last, thundering wall of defense that many planets had near the brink of takeover and with every fight he would watch his men, his friends, be slayed like nothing more than some vile, worthless beasts. He had begun to feel haunted...

He spared a glance at the child who was curled into a ball on the sofa as he headed out. He felt haunted like Djibourdi felt haunted. Just a glance at the gold eyes proved that he felt haunted... and the worst part of this entire situation wasn't the obvious abuse and torture that had befallen the boy, it was something that Tombur didn't want Djibourdi to ever hear. The truth was himself and Warren had known Zimereck. The two masters had, in Tombur's younger years, been colleagues and had gone through their padawan classes together and had even seen their graduation at the same time.

He stretched his legs out to a quick trot for a few hundred feet and then into a full charge through the woods, expertly weaving this way and that way and over this and to the side of that, twisting and turning and manipulating himself to not be touched by a single branch with the aid of the Force. Yes, he had known Zimereck, and he recalled what his master told him when he had come to him with the childish worry of the shadows he had seen in the black eyes. They were dead eyes, he had told his master who listened intently from his place next to him on his bed, eyes that looked like they belonged to a Sith man who wanted to cause nothing but pain...and such an assumption of anyone was something that he shouldn't be doing. Instead of rebuking him Warren had surprisingly praised him for bringing his fears forward and told him something he would never forget.

Flying over a fallen log he landed without so much as a flinch and darted across the field and entering the woods on the other side, forcing himself into quick acrobatics to aid in his dodging. Trust yourself, Warren had told him, trust your instincts. Listen to them because when you're all alone, the Force will tell you what is right and what is wrong. Zimereck had a darkness in him, his master had told him, a darkness that had been forged by his master before him that he was struggling to escape. When the black-haired human's first padawan vanished without a trace Tombur understood that he hadn't escaped the darkness, and when he was let back into the Order he knew that it had infiltrated their ranks.

One day he had caught word that he had taken another padawan, a ridiculously young one that was restricted simply to katas and basic education at his age and he had chosen not to be concerned since he had just passed his trials and had been knighted. He had become the second general of the secret charging armies of the Republic and commanded three legions of his own, he had no time to be concerned with the doings of any other Jedi. That was when he had heard of the man's death and he knew that his master had been right the whole. There was a darkness inside of the man, a darkness so overwhelming and consuming that he just couldn't escape. In the end, it destroyed him. Or so he was told to believe. He had been told that the Jedi was dead, drowned in a fountain at a prison...but that just seemed to be too simple. When he had heard rumors of the two Togrutan children suffering on Shili, one being the surviving padawan of the man, he had felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

With a double breath he stopped atop a large stone sticking out of the earth and fell immediately into his katas, his people's art not escaping him through all these years. Jira Handuso was not a woman he easily shook from his mind. The day he had turned twelve a Twi'lek woman with purple skin had come to him and made him feel like the luckiest child in his class. He was the first to be taken as a padawan and Jira seemed to be the kindest woman in the galaxy when they went to their room for the first time...he was sadly mistaken. The berating was first, usually nothing more than a bit of griping when he didn't move fast enough or messed up a kata or failed to block a blow during training. Quickly it escalated into more. The yelling, the hitting, the withholding of food – it all compounded and doubled in on itself so incredibly swiftly that his head still spun, and his arm still bore that long, ragged scar that would always remind him that he had failed to take his life. Jira had walked into the bathroom right as he made the cut and had grabbed his arm and twisted it so hard the bone had given way, yet she drug him even like that down the hall until the break had been disastrously pulverized and he screamed in such a bloodcurdling way it still haunted him.

It was so blatant that of course others took notice. Jira had been tackle and subdued by four Jedi while others had helped him, and he remembered that in his pain the only thing he could do was cry and beg for mercy before blacking out from the effects of his own self-inflicted wound. When he awoke he was in a big bed in the healing halls, a massive cast and brace around his throbbing left arm and soft straps holding him to the bed. At that time the technologies weren't what they were now. Six durasteel rods had been needed to pull the pieces of pulverized bone together and pins were placed through the flesh of his arm for two months to keep him from undoing the damage. They knew that at that point he was suicidal and didn't give him a chance to try it again. That was when Warren had come into the picture. History wrote itself from that point on up until now, where he stood perfectly balanced on one strong leg amidst the strong winds of the Naboo forest. He had truly been given a second chance when Warren had come into the picture, and he had never realized just how hard it must have been on his old master to watch him suffer until now.

It had only taken three months for Jira to get under his skin enough to make him want to take his own life, and Djibourdi had been the padawan of Kailem for almost a year and a half; he didn't dismiss the possibility that at one point or another he had considered it himself.

Hopping down he let himself begin to slowly trek the half mile back to the cabin, relishing the the soft breeze that dried the tiny bit of sweat on his fit body. He wasn't sure of what the cruel man had done over all that time, but he did have the secret worry that the darkness inside of him had somehow been sewn into Djibourdi and that it would soon take root. He liked to believe that by now all self-degrading tendencies should be out of his system yet he did recall his time talking to some of his men who trusted him enough to admit to self-harm out of survivor's guilt. Was that why he feared the water? His master's drowning? As cruel as it sounded, that event should have brought him peace.

Typing in his key code he turned the door handle and let himself inside, spotting the Togrutan immediately where he was perched near a large window in the living space. The door swung shut behind him and he made his way over to the child who jumped down and immediately assumed his normal stance, feet apart, head bowed, hands clasped behind his back – and earning a tiny bead of frustration from the Echani who lowered himself down to his eye level.

"Hey," he whispered and was rewarded with shaking eyes that desperately wanted to look away again, "I thought we got passed this, little one. You don't have to stand like that when I come around. I'm your friend, not your owner...alright?"

He got a blink of understanding and Djibourdi relaxed just a bit but chose to keep his hands clasped behind his back. Tombur knew he was waiting to be yelled at, and he would have to wait forever for it.

"I told you Red, don't feel embarrassed or bad. It could happen to anyone – do you honestly think that you're the first person that's ever happened to?"

The red bottom lip was chewed on lightly and the eyes sunk down, only to immediately jump back up with the light correction from the knight.

"Nuh-uh bud, you look up here," he reminded the child, "The floor has nothing new to say."

After a second his eyes softened and he took on a gentler tone when he touched on the sore subject.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

A vigorous shake of the head was the obvious no. His mouth opened and Tombur's hopes went high- but a second later it closed again and his gaze drooped again.

"Hey," he called with a gentle tap of his fingers to the bony chin, making him look up again, "It's okay, there's no rush. Give it time."

Djibourdi sighed.

"What were you doing while I was gone besides sleeping?"

Without turning his back the padawan back-shuffled to grab a datapad and, once he was in front of his guardian again, he handed it over. More homework – surely by now he had to have exhausted all of his schoolwork for the next two years and, outside of the personal evaluation, he had near perfect scores on all of his papers.

"What a trooper," he praised him, sending off the documents to the teachers with his signature and handing the datapad back, "I'm proud of you, doing your homework after a bad night. Did you eat anything this morning?"

If he hadn't been around the boy for as long as he had been now he would have missed the split second of hesitation before the nod. That split second and the shot of panic that lasted under a second over their bond had him floored at the most obvious cause...he knew that food was a problem but he never expected this.

"Look at me now," he told the squirming Togrutan who stared once again at the floor. At the just-slightly hardened tone there was a physical flinch but he chose to heed the command, haunted eyes trying to hold their calm when they met his, "Red, was that a lie?"

It wasn't a huge thing – most people lie about something all the time and in all honesty Tombur wouldn't have given it any weight if it didn't directly have an effect on the already poor health of the child. He knew Djibourdi would try to avoid food to avoid nausea and having to take insulin, but it was something he couldn't afford to play with. He had to nip it in the bud.

"Was that a lie, young one?" he pressed a bit harder and got a shakey affirmative.

He wasn't meaning to scare him, but certainly he wasn't going to brush it off either so it could manifest itself later. He raised an eyebrow and watched the small body flinch fully in reaction. It hurt him so bad on the inside to know that now he was the one causing him discomfort and fear, but he knew all it would mean was a slight rebuttal.

"I will have many things, but I will not have lies," he told him in a no nonsense tone, trying not to sound too mean but also ensuring he drove the the point home. He pointed to the corner of the room behind them, "You need to go into time-out for a few minutes. When I go to my room to change clothes you go stand in that corner, you understand?"

A panicked nod and a bow had the child scurrying to the corner. Of course Tombur felt bad for correcting him but he knew it was just a light punishment and stood with a sigh, unbuckling his belt and hanging it loosely over one of the kitchen chairs before going to his room to change clothes. What an absolute puzzle this child was. If the worst thing he had ever done in his life was lie about eating a meal then they might as well call him a saint and send him on his way. Tombur could easily name some things members of the Council had to their names, yet he couldn't shake a stick at a single thing Red had done since he met him. As a child himself Tombur recalled being quite the handful and being awful mischievous, but it was all in good fun (Warren certainly didn't call it 'fun' – many a time he found himself in front of some other master apologizing for what young Tombur believed to be a joke that went horribly awry). As he had matured he had changed and became much more level headed to Warren's ultimate relief, and now he had the task of a lifetime in front of him.

One tear. One blasted, forsaken tear he had managed to get out of the child in their time together, and he knew full well that he had plenty to cry about – but even that one tear had been over something other than what had happened before to him. The white haired head shook as he pulled the tunic shirt over his head and fastened the collar with ease. From one second to the next he was out of his bedroom and over to where Djibourdi was, the unrestrained scream that ripped through the air of the cabin immediately sending him flying to the side of the boy in distress even as odd and out of place the situation was that he found.

He was where he had left him, head in the corner, but now he was on his knees and doubled over, his shirt having been folded neatly and placed a few feet away by the boy himself. Tombur didn't bother to try and approach with caution and instead threw himself to his knees and grabbing a hold of the thin frame, pulling him out of the corner and letting him fall lightly on his rump as he ran his hands over whatever exposed skin he could, trying to find the source of the padawan's obvious discomfort.

"Dji, Dji," he repeated, both of his broad hands grasping the thin, panicked face and forcing eye contact. The boy's own hands shot up with intention to block the knight's but stopped just short, "What's wrong? What's wrong? Where are you hurt?"

He pulled him forward a bit to run one hand down the scarred back, not finding any new source of pain. There had to be something, the padawan was about to hyperventilate over something and for the life of him Tombur could not figure out what was wrong and why the child's shirt had been so purposely discarded.

"Red," he spoke again, forcing him to meet his eye and searching the teary ones for answers, "Where are you hurt? What's wrong? I can't help if I don't know what's wrong. Show me."

At the instant the soft command was issued one small finger pointed across the room toward the kitchen. The Echani followed the path of the finger to where it was pointing, looking for an intruder that had somehow escaped his notice, or a new thing that could have caused the panic, anything. Nothing was there. He turned back and pleaded again to the trembling child.

"I don't understand. I need you to show me – I'm so sorry Red, I just don't understand. Go show me what you mean."

Even with his body close to panic Djibourdi obeyed and Tombur watched him scurry like a frightened mouse across to the kitchen chair, grab the belt he had slung over it earlier and return to where he was seated. He still didn't get it. The child offered it to him with a bow and out of confusion he took it, watching him slink back to the corner with a hiccup and get back to his knees, hunching himself over and pressing his face into the wall. What in the name of the Force –

He slowly put two and two together, looking from his belt in his hand to the terrified child to the belt again, and he felt a bit of vomit rise in his throat. The strap was chucked away with fervor as if it had been some venomous reptile. No time was wasted before Tombur reach out and grabbed a hold of the padawan and pulled him out of the corner again, this time adrenaline making his moves jumpy and shakey while he pulled the trembling boy to his feet.

"You stand up now," he whispered shakily, not letting go until he was sure his stance was strong enough to hold him up-right. He held onto one spindly arm with his left hand and used his right to summon the shirt that had been discarded a distance away to him, catching it and shaking it out of its fold for the purpose of tossing it around the trembling shoulders and back, "Put your shirt on, now. Put your shirt on..."

His voice was faltering and he was sure it was far from reassuring but at that point his only concern was working the weedy arms through the sleeves of the flannel night-shirt and drawing the two ends together to button them closed. One button, two buttons, his hands shook so bad he could hardly hold the two ends together and he surrendered the task, Force-summoning one of the fleece blankets to him and throwing it over the trembling shoulder before grasping the struggling face and pressing their foreheads together.

"You listen to me now," he spoke to the soul behind the flaxen irises, "I would **never** do anything like that to you – ever. I will **never **hit you, or hurt you, or b-"

He hesitated, gulped, and continued a bit calmer.

"I will never beat you. I know he did- you look at me," he pressed when the eyes squished themselves shut. He had to give a little more encouragement until they opened again, and with dismay he had to wipe a tear away with his thumb, "I know he must've. That's where all those scars came from, am I right?"

Of course he was. It was obvious what scars the Endrati had caused and which were caused by Zimereck. The Endrati marks were few and far between but they were sunken little craters in his skin where the flesh had rotted away, the most obvious marks left over from the ordeal being twin scars over the jugular veins that jutted out of red skin. The other marks were long and jagged tearing wounds that ranged all over his body, from the backs of his shoulders down past the thin bottom to the backs of his knees. Some were perfectly symmetrical lines on his upper arms that had long since scarred over a lighter red than his flesh, making them easy to spot.

"Djibourdi, no one has the right to do that to you," he told him firmly, holding his eyes, "No one in the galaxy has the right to hit you or burn you or speak down to you. Yes, there are those who are cruel enough to try, but when you get older I know you will inherit the ability to defend yourself from it. Until then I am here and I am telling you now that no one has that right."

He could tell the child wanted to backpedal out of his grip but he stayed perfectly still as if hoping that the knight would forget he was there, the one tear being all that Tombur had gotten out of him though the eyes were still swimming.

"You can say 'no'," he prompted gently now that his own panic was beginning to subside with the comfort of being able to hold his gaze somewhat steadily, "'No' is an okay answer, I'm sure it hasn't been until now. If a touch scares you, just say 'no' little one, that's a perfectly acceptable response with me."

Make that two tears and a trembling lip with dodging eyes now. He would allow the diversion this time for the sake of making this into a lesson. He wanted to just pull the panicked child to him and soothe the whole lot of horrid memories away but he remembered the advice that Warren had given him. He had to face the mess of scars and bruises and nightmares in order to overcome it, and with this he was trying to get the boy to take the initiative. If it got too bad he would drop his hold anyway and deal with the issue, but he wanted to see just how brave this one was.

"Just say 'no', Red. I know you're scared and that's perfectly fine, and if my hands on your face makes you scared then it's not an alright touch. All you have to do is say 'no' if it scares you."

He grew concerned when the eyelids and forehead scrunched up in obvious terror, the little head bowing only slightly as if he were testing whether or not the hands would fall away on their own. Of course Tombur wasn't ready to drop the point yet and was sure in keeping his hands pressed to the jutting cheekbones with the slightest of pressure. He didn't want the touch to retreat until Djibourdi exercised his right to ask it to, and at that moment he was incredibly worried that the opportunity to get him to open up had passed him by.

"I know you can do it," he whispered and leaned his head back, trying to give the child a fair shot, "You have the right to say 'no', and there will be no kind of retaliation. I believe in you."

It was such a simple thing to the average person to stop something when it bothered them, but it had never been allowed in the life of the Togrutan who was in panic in front of him. To him it was a herculean effort just to say 'no' to a touch the sent him right into the pits of terror and fear, to him it was the near-impossible task of re-writing the rules he had beaten into him.

When a third tear fell and the youngling gasped loudly Tombur was ready to call it quits; too much strain too soon he assumed was the problem, but just as he went to relinquish his hold the arms finally moved. Ranging up they gave little Red the leverage he needed to put his hands atop the broader ones planted on his cheekbones. With a soft bit of encouragement through their link that burst through the cloud of panic he gathered the courage and pressed down on the much stronger appendages. Tombur of course knew he didn't have the strength to physically push him away if he had made him rely on himself alone so he let his muscles go lax and his hands slowly fell away, not falling faster that the youngling's so he could prove that it would do whatever Djibourdi told it to.

Finally they came to a stop in Tombur's lap and the tiny red hands retreated back up to cross themselves and grasp onto the fleece blanket that was flowing around his shoulders.

"Good job," Tombur was quick to praise, knowing that even in the mental state he was in that he could hear him, "See? I promised. All you need to do is say 'no' and it will stop. There will be no more of that...torture, little one. You're safe now."

He tried to send comfort through their weak bond but it did little to soothe the emotional storm that was pressing against the young mind. The Echani would prefer that Djibourdi just sob and scream and cry and throw a fit and help it out of himself but instead he chose to just turn his head and look away, his left hand curled into a fist and grasping the blanket being brought up to his mouth for him to clamp down on to stop the sobs before they could escape. That was the ultimate frustration, seeing him finally so close to having the first of hopefully many venting sessions but blatantly refusing to let it take over. He had seen it a couple times in the orphaned on the planets he and his men freed but usually a bit of cajoling had them letting their emotions out quite quickly – they were children, after all. Besides his small body it was hard to remember that Djibourdi was a child by the way he acted and as much as the knight understood the terror associated with facing bad memories he knew it was something that needed to be done. The longer it took to get the first storm out of him the more difficult the fight would be to get him to let go in the future.

It was scary, he knew that, every person knew that, but it was horrifying for one so young to envelop himself in such terrors again. He was losing the fight for control and it became obvious with the fourth, unrestrained tear that slipped out and ran down the trembling cheek.

"Red?"

Djibourdi hiccuped and bit a tiny bit harder onto the bones of his hand, choosing not to look at the knight who called to him from three paces away. Regardless, Tombur sat himself cross-legged on the carpeted ground and held out his arms loosely. He was going to keep his body loose and calm, providing the little one with a sanctuary when he was ready to take advantage of it.

"I will be right here little bugger. I'll be right here and I'll hold you if you want. I know it has to be scary to see all the memories again, and I can help you, but only if you want me to."

His own ribcage rumbled with the sounds of indecision and and confrontation, his eyes watching the little teeth chew the smallest of holes into the skin of the child's own left hand and as the pain traveled to his brain more tears bit at the struggling eyes. His eyelids slid shut again and the red brow stretched upward to pull the skin of the lids taunt – it was surely an odd look, but it helped him to keep the emotions at bay for just a little longer as the small body riveted with a titanic hiccup.

"It's okay to cry now."

Another hiccup and he beckoned gently with his arms, feeding into their bond a feeling of warmth and comfort. It was obvious that the younger's mind wasn't there, it was buried entirely in the memories that he had tried so hard to escape.

"Can I at least give you a hug?"

That finally earned him the attention of the struggling eyes and he wasn't surprised to see them flooded with stinging tears and alight with terror of what he was seeing in his head. Wide-eyed the padawan gave a vigorous shake of his head, still gnawing on his knuckle. In a normal situation Tombur would have demanded he stop the self-harm even though it was purely unintentional, but his mind was focused on the bigger concern in his mind.

"Why not?" he pushed slightly, dismayed as the fifth, sixth, and seventh tears came in quick succession with another hiccup. Testing their trembling bond he understood why – if he hugged him, he was going to lose it, and that's exactly what needed to happen, "I will hold you, little Red, I will be here with you – I'm not going to leave you. We can do it together. I promise."

He stretched his right arm out further and cupped his fingers, stopping half a foot away from being able to touch the blanketed arm that faced him. He was pumping so much emotion through their weak bond he hoped at least some of it would convince the child to accept his offer and after holding his breath Djibourdi moved in a flash, grasping a hold of the offered hand and darting over to latch onto the broad shoulder. If he hadn't move that fast he would have reconsidered and would never have done it. Tombur wasted no time in throwing the shaking body off balance and pulled him onto his own lap, immediately and without hesitation wrapping his body around the painfully thin one. It was with a few moments of whispered encouragement that the child felt safe enough to rest his head in the crook of the adult's neck, more hiccups ordering him to set them free. He wasn't quite ready yet.

Sharing wasn't necessarily Djibourdi's strong suit, but if Tombur was correct in his current hypothesis, it wouldn't take much now to finally reach the real child he was with. The cracks were beginning to give way and his facade was crumbling. With as much care as he could summon he gave a sigh and through his hand on the back of the little skull and his cheek planted on its zenith he reached out through the Force to the fortress that was the guided young mind. Obviously the gentle brush was rejected, but it had never been for the purpose of pushing through the blockade into the protected mind. It had been, instead, a bit of a scoping technique and it proved at least one part of his theory correct.

The walls he had built up weren't the excessively built, dragon-guarded, moat-dug, armor-plated ones that he had always thought they were. Just like the exterior that Djibourdi had made for himself the appearance was just a facade, a bluff to keep out anyone unwanted, and as much as Tombur hated to admit it, he had fallen for it. The walls he had built up were nothing but glass on the outside. And right on the other side of that glass was what he had feared he'd see, yet what he had been almost entirely sure was there from the very start. Warren and himself had taken to calling it a 'leech' – it wasn't really something that was encountered commonly amongst the Jedi, but when one was present it could devastate its host. It was a rooting seed of the dark side planted by Djibourdi's former master and unlike the ones that were surely hidden deep in the recesses of his mind, this one had become so incredibly strong and boastful it presented itself fully and without fear as it stayed safe and tucked away behind the walls of glass.

The leech could torment the child however it saw fit until it was destroyed. It could make him fear whatever it wanted and drain any momentary spurts of courage he might have mustered up while slowly turning him to the dark side by manipulating his memories, picking out the most horrid and shoving them into the forefront of his mind. When he would choose to speak up the leech would simply feed incredible ideas of pain and suffering that could be caused by it and he would clam up again, the unbridled emotions hidden behind his facade feeding it until it grew strong enough for a takeover. It was the perfect explanation for a lot of his suffering.

Removing the leech would be simple enough...if he would be allowed past the guarded gates of his mind. With his multiple more years' experience with the Force Tombur could do the work for him, but the pain it would cause could indeed be very real and, if he wasn't careful, very deadly. In such situations he would immediately turn to Warren for help, but he was in it alone this time. Killing off this tumor of the darkness would of course help Djibourdi, but it wasn't a cure. He was scared, and fear fed the darkness, and the only way for him to beat his fear was to face it.

The fact that he now sat, curled up in a trembling mass of emotions on Tombur's lap showed that he was committed to at least giving it a try, and if he was then so was his protector. Tombur started a bit when, from his vantage point, he could feel the walls physically tremble and shutter seemingly on their own. Yet when Djibourdi shuddered and pressed himself a bit closer to the warmth that was the Echani he understood that the child knew what he had just found out. Of course he knew, he was far more intelligent than anyone at any age he had ever met before so it only made logical sense that he was aware of what was plaguing his mind. Surely that was why he had formed the tiny bond that they had together. It wasn't enough to do anything with but it was enough for Tombur to be able to scope around and realize that the dark was killing him. He had to trust that Tombur would be okay in getting rid of the leech, he had to be sure that the knight wouldn't hurt himself in trying to help Djibourdi. By forging the small bond he could gauge his protector's Force presence and now that he knew it was strong enough to protect him he was willing to let him try; he was willing to do anything to ease the agony that it was giving him right now as he gasped and choked on his tears into the strong neck.

Somehow or another the two shared the same determination and thought, marked when Tombur grasped Djibourdi's hands with one of his own and held his head with the other. He heard the whisper of comfort but it didn't do anything to help his anxiety; Tombur let him have his time to get ready, his time to brace himself. In the back of the knight's own mind he felt Warren sit tensely, sending him strength and energy to do this – even from such a distance the master could help him. He couldn't physically enter Djibourdi's mind like Tombur would be able to, but he would be able to help keep the leech from jumping from one host to another and help keep his old padawan calm. Killing a leech caused agony, it wasn't something that was normally done. Most mind and soul-healers chose to treat the side effects and not the cause because the leech would be so deeply buried within the conscious or unconscious mind that it would kill the person that they tried to remove it from. Yet this one was so bold it presented itself from just behind the boy's shields – it was incredibly strong and boastful, obviously having more than enough self-hatred and fear to feed off of and grow. Without it being removed, Red would turn.

Tombur braced himself as the walls shuddered again, feeling Warren move ever closer to guard them both from the outside and he reached forward to softly push against the trembling barriers. He wanted to tell Djibourdi that he would be alright and that he would be fast, but he knew there would be no fast to this. It would be methodical and slow, but he would do his best. He took a deep breath and then the walls fell straight down all at once, the leech churning and writhing as it was exposed to the light side of the Force that Tombur instantly threw at it. The light could kill the dark and it caused it great pain, its hold shifting just slightly enough for it to strike back out at the knight who attacked at it. He could hear Djibourdi's screaming in the recesses of his mind but he had to focus and threw all of his concentration and energy into the destruction of the deadly parasite.

His own thoughts were quickly being poisoned by the negative cloud, tsunamis of emotion flooding his consciousness. It made it harder and harder to attack the thing that endangered Djibourdi yet he managed when Warren took over the care of his own mind for him, beating back the parasite that tried to now take refuge in his mind. It writhed in agony now that both of the Jedi could guide the Force to it and the holy presence did its job, aiming to free its youngest child from the agony of the dark side. With one final surge of energy and just a hint of desperation, just when Tombur was about to quit for the sake of Djibourdi, the kriffing thing gave way and finally released the tortured mind it had been living in. Once its hold relinquished it gave one last flail before it was enveloped in the light side and it was gone – gone forever. Tombur slid back a bit, expecting the walls to come flying back up, but stopped cold when Djibourdi's presence, dulled by his exhaustion and pain, grasped a hold of him in an offer of creating a full bond.

It was immediately accepted and fairly swiftly the connection was forged before weak, temporary shields were raised to guard the young mind – created for the purpose of only momentarily protecting himself. With Warren's urging Tombur allowed himself to focus back into his conscious mind to finally comfort the still-struggling child he held on to. The pain was gone but its after effects were not; now his Red felt safer with him and finally allowed himself the ability to vent, even if just for a moment, it allowed him to finally get out from under the pressure he was under. It was obvious that he had been screaming from the agony the leech had made, and surely that was what some of these tears were for, but he wasn't only crying now – he was full-out sobbing and wailing and as bad as it sounded it did Tombur's heart good to see. He had so much to cry for and he couldn't do it all at once, so he had chosen this time to cry over lost time. Time that was spent feeding the leech that was now gone. Time wasted not letting Tombur take over sooner. Time that he could have been spending really recovering. Tombur was content to just pull him up a little more and cradle him, rocking them together and fighting off the memories that he could now see were haunting the padawan.

Djibourdi was normally very quiet but these gut-wrenching sobs were ripping sound out of him fairly violently and Tombur had to admit that he felt so horrible just listening to them, but he was sure that this would be one of those soul-cleansing cries that he really needed. The first was always the hardest, and the ones after would come as swiftly and naturally as they needed to. Now that he could see the memories (and there were libraries of them) he could fully understand the cause for such an uproar, but being naturally quiet the sobs were the only fuss Djibourdi offered.

"You're a good boy," he told him while he continued to rock them both, sure that the motion did something to help out, "Just let it go now. You're going to be fine now, it's all over and I'm not leaving."

He could feel Warren feeding his caring tendencies and he almost wanted to laugh – he was exhausted from his hand at helping kill of the plaguing leech but it was out of determination to be of some form of help that he was helping to keep his old padawan calm and in focus of his task. Tombur had kept their weak, still-existing bond opened on sheer accident; he had meant to close it to give Djibourdi some privacy but the presence of his own master was helping a lot in keeping his emotions in check. Warren couldn't hear the hiccuping sobs or see the impossible strength of this attack or feel his neck getting soaked in tears but he could feel Tombur's imbalance and timidity when it came to helping the youngling confront it all. There was no margin for error, he didn't want to give the message that this was not alright.

In the distant future such things wouldn't be needed to keep Djibourdi in balance, but right now the goal was to get out the negative emotion that fed the seeds of the dark side and help him settle. The nightmares, the fear, the hard-wired little habits that constantly followed him could be helped if not eliminated with just a little bit of time.

For being as spindly and weak as he was the child had some real endurance in him for crying Tombur noted after a good bit of time passed, though he wasn't complaining when he noted the dark shots of self-loathing were lightening a bit. It must have been quite some time to confront such things, he surmised, and this was the ultimate blessing that could be bestowed in such a situation. He gave a silent sigh of relief when the heated sobs finally died down and Djibourdi transitioned to just softly crying into his neck while his body gave tiny little gasps as he caught his breath. He moved the child off of his lap and set him on the floor long enough to stand and he didn't miss the down-cast glance and the little red hands purposefully blocking his view of the tear-soaked cheeks.

"Uh-uh, bud you aren't done yet," he told the seated child as he reached down to pick him up, "Don't you swallow those tears youngling, you come up here."

With a soft grunt of effort he lifted the very slight body back to him and began his light pacing, making sure the silent tears continued to fall by taking a fleeting glance. Warren tapped at his mind and he gave a light response, sharing what he was seeing in a single image. Sight-sharing was something they had perfected years back but they could only ever manage single images at a time. It was enough to convey that he was confident he could handle the rest. Djibourdi didn't have much energy left in him it seemed since his head was tenseless and flopped on his holder's shoulder, silent tears still pushing their way out of him without his ability to fight them off. There was no fuss at all, just silent tears yet it seemed ever more profound to the adult who stroked over his back with a broad, confident hand. The attack was long-winded but Tombur knew when it finally began to wind down.

Djibourdi gave a couple coughs and hand raised a shaking fist to rub at his eyes, Tombur catching him at the last second.

"Ah!" he chided softly, grabbing the little hand before he could rub his salty skin against the raw tear tracks, "Don't use your hands, Red. We need tissues, right?"

He walked them over to the kitchen counter and plucked two soft tissues from a container he had placed there days ago, molding the small cloths around two of his own fingers before dabbing at the wet tracks and stray tears that soaked the red skin. He halted the motion when the younger frowned and gave a soft groan, trying to rearrange himself in his grip.

"What's wrong?" the knight pressed, although he was sure he knew the answer, "Do your eyes hurt?"

Oh yes they did, they burned and stung and swelled and were truly hurting so Djibourdi gave a tiny nod and another cough, his abused lungs making a statement as well. He hoped it was normal, and when Tombur didn't seem hurried to correct it he relaxed a bit.

"Oh, that can happen sometimes sweetheart," Tombur cooed to him gently dabbing at his lower cheeks and resuming his rocking motion slightly, "It'll stop. It happens if you cry a lot after not having done it for a while. When was the last time you had a nice, long, good cry?"

A weak half-shrug and a sigh had the youngling melting into the sanctity of his shoulder. Never, this was the first time...yet certainly not the last.

"That's alright. One time isn't going to be an end-all be-all cure, it's going to take a few times," the adult explained, calmly dabbing away another spare tear after Djibourdi whimpered, "Relax, relax. They'll stop, you just have to let it run its course and they'll stop when they need to. I'm still here, you don't have to be afraid of them. I won't let you go."

It was a bit of extra insurance that Djibourdi had a hold of his tunic top tightly in one hand, the grip helping him believe the words to be true and to root himself in the present, not the haunting memories of the past. Oh he was so tired, so worn out, so drained – he hadn't felt this way since the Endrati, and he could help but connect the dots between Eddy and Tombur. He chalked it up to two men he trusted now, and he wasn't too sure the list was going to expand anymore. Another painful tear pushed out of his eyes at the flash in his mind of a memory not forgotten and he drew in a shaky breath, making a futile effort to release the nightmare into the Force on his own. He felt Tombur help and together they pushed it away; it took them both, he was just too tired from all of this and as the minutes ticked by each tears began to feel less and less like salty water and more and more like flesh-eating acid.

He hated feeling so weak but he couldn't even move his hand, and after two more incredibly agonizing tears ripped down his cheeks he heard himself click multiple times and whimper. It immediately caught the attention of his holder who seemed to note the discomfort and fed a soothing warmth into his exhausted mind, a new pair of tissues dabbing his cheeks and trying to avoid the tender skin around his eyes.

"Shh-shh," he heard whispered to him when he let out a keen wail, "I know it hurts, I know little one. I know. They'll stop on their own, your body's just trying to get rid of the stress as best it can."

Tombur had to admit that he was feeling just a bit helpless – helpless to help him stop the pain that he was in.

"Shush now, shh..." Djibourdi was chittering to him, begging him to help. Without any idea of what else to do, he began to ponder and with a jolt he got an idea and instantly moved them further into the kitchen, "It's alright now, Red. You're going to be just fine. Look what Tombur has for you!"

In his hand he now held a candy-dotted cookie that he had retrieved from a container inside one of the cupboards above his head. Such food items were of limit to the diabetic but for the sake of distracting him for the time being the knight let it pass and presented it to him in hops he would take it. He seemed to hesitate.

"It'll help, it will really help I promise. One isn't going to throw you off that bad and they're very yummy," he told him, purposely trying to entice the youngling who finally accepted the small snack item but not choosing to eat it yet, "Tombur wants one too. We can use a little sugar, hmm?"

He plucked one of the other soft cookies from the container and took a bite, unwittingly giving Djibourdi the courage to begin to eat his own. So the adult was right Djibourdi came to realize, the little sugary thing did help for the moment and it took his mind off of his situation. Tombur was much quicker in finishing his own and started his pacing again, moving to the living room where the early afternoon sun was creeping through one of the windows. If he knew this youngling well enough by now, it would mean that putting him in sunlight would calm him down much better than his guardian could. Whether it was the light, the warmth, or both, it always seemed to work out for him and, when he glanced over to his shoulder, he almost laughed when he realized just how right he had been in his assumption. Out like a light that quick; so the little distraction had done the job he had intended for it and got him to focus outside of his memories for just one second, and that one second was enough for his body to catch up with his mind and it send him right to sleep.

He was still so young to be forced into such things, but he had done remarkably well. Warren pressed at the edge of his mind, asking for more information, and Tombur send him a still image of the konked out Togrutan he held. He felt the mirth almost immediately and he wanted to let out a very loud laugh, but when the child mumbled in his sleep he chose against it, just relishing being able to hold the little one close without dealing with his fear. Even though he was tiny, he was adorable when he slept like this – body completely limp, eyes fluttering, mouth slightly agape. He looked like he had been dropped from some outrageous distance and had landed right where he was and where he stayed now without complaint or reaction. This was indeed something that needed to happen, no matter how exhausting, and in the future Tombur was sure that it would play the largest role in his long-term rehabilitation. Now, put before the eyes of the Jedi Council such obvious affection and care from the knight toward the youngling would of course be ruled out of code, but for the first time since his own second start Tombur could have cared less about the code. He followed its words explicitly day in and day out but the day he had first felt this child in his mind he had felt the Force pull him to the broken one's side.

He was glad that it had now that he held the skinny body to him with such peace; it supported his actions with waves of care and protection, living up to its promise to him to always be there whenever he needed it. It had kept him safe through so many impossible fights and now it told him and encouraged him to save one of its younger children from the grips of evil. Tombur was more than happy to oblige, but he wasn't ready yet to do what it suggested next. He would take his time with that, just as he did at this very moment, content to stroke the back of the little red head and hum softly to him to help his sleep. A quick glance through their bond told him there were no nightmares and he was finally satisfied enough to begin a slow trek to the child's bedroom while he moved to hold the bony back through the fleece blanket that was still pulled over him.

He was out cold – completely out, the knight realized when he layed him down onto the mattress and pulled the covers over him, lightly tucking them around him and rather rapidly retreating out of the room. Pressing the control that would keep the door ajar Tombur followed the light beeping of his holo-communicator to where it sat on the counter, feeling better about speaking to Warren now that his charge was safely in the arms of sleep. He and his old master spoke jovially for quite some time, the master gently pressing for whatever details he could but ultimately understanding when Tombur dodged some of the questions with a hint of expertise.

The Echani wisely spent the hour after their talk meditating in the warm comfort and light of the Force, rebuilding his own mental shields that had been dented and bent in the fight with the leech and sneakily helping to reinforce the outer walls of the young Togrutan's who was still locked in a deep sleep. He was sure that cannon fire wouldn't have awakened the child but it could be something so painfully simple as an unexpected, feather-light touch to his mind that would stir him and pull him out of the incredibly restful slumber. All of the child's innermost thoughts and memories were right at his proverbial fingertips and, had chosen to do so, he could have very easily reached out and pulled them to himself to uncover every little pet peeve and insecurity the worn mind contained. Of course, he would never. Tombur was many things, but he was not a liar. When he had told Djibourdi that the contents of his book would remain his until he gave permission, he knew that pertained to the same things that lay behind the severely weakened walls of his mind.

It was with a touch of curiosity that he noted the walls strengthening themselves, rebuilding the small chunks of foundation that had been torn and bashed in the fight with the leech. He was still quite amused that a child so young had fooled everyone including himself with the fake fortress he had made – it had the look and feel of such incredibly strong mental shields that he was sure even the great Master Yoda hadn't mastered yet. It only boiled down to logic that Djibourdi wasn't able to build such shields at his age. He was still a baby in Tombur's eyes, and such incredible construction would have taken untold numbers of years to master let alone put to use. Yet the bluff had worked, he had fooled everyone. What a little fox he was!

Something in the physical realm caught his attention and Tombur responded to it, returning to his own mind and opening his eyes to take in little Red standing in front of him. A bit drawn and tired-looking, but not really worse for wear, he stood and shyly looked at him with his blanket drawn around his shoulders. The couple hours of sleep had done him good and with only the side effect of a mildly pounding headache he had made it through with no lasting damage.

"Hello, Red," Tombur greeted him, gazing affectionately at the shy look. He held out his hand which was taken without much hesitation, "You look so much better. How do you feel?"

He felt a relaxed pulse through their link and gave a relieved smile. Djibourdi shared with him just briefly a touch of what almost felt like weightlessness and Tombur understood almost immediately.

"That's a good thing. Do you feel like a weight's been taken off you?"

A nod.

"Then this was a very good thing. The Force is stronger with you now, little Red and it will help keep you safe. ...whatcha got there?"

It was right then that he noticed the child's free hand tucked into his blanket seemingly grasping a hold of something and when Djibourdi released his hold on the knight's hand and retrieved the item he held, Tombur's breath caught. Unflinchingly the small book was offered to him by a loose arm that half-extended from the skinny body. For the first time in his years since his knighting Tombur felt himself fully hesitate.

"Red," he said after a soft gulp, slightly reassured by the fact that the child was meeting his eyes without hesitation, "You don't have to give this to me."

The book moved a bit closer to him as the arm fully extended and when the white hand finally grabbed a hold of it, Djibourdi gave him such a look of unyielding trust it made him want to bawl. And here was an incredible amount of progress.

When their time on Naboo reached over a month Tombur knew they were down to single-digit days on the beautiful planet's surface. In the days following his reading of the book he had begun to understand more and more about who it was that he shared space with and couldn't help but feel appreciative of sharing a relationship with such a majestic creature; it was really an honor to be around this kind of a being, no matter how young. There had been an obvious shift in the younger's personality since forming their bond: he had a light in his eyes that rushed over the hints of the dark that had always been there, the ever-growing shadow in his presence was gone and replaced by what Tombur believed to be a heavenly light, and, in the knight's mind most important, he had gone leaps and bounds in his physical stances. The day before, in one day, he had mastered two katas and had managed a round around the tiny track jogging in pace with his much taller colleague. Tombur estimated his weight gain to be a little over ten pounds since their arrival and while it wasn't anywhere near what he had hoped to see it was obviously doing wonders already.

Today he sat under the great boughs of the old tree and watched the Togrutan gallivant around the track, tossing his head and nicking his appreciation of the warm sun that warmed his skin and soul in only a way that the living Force could. Such a dramatic turn-around could only be caused by the Force itself, Tombur was sure, he had never heard of such things happening in such a short time before in his entire time with the Jedi. He had been actually eager to present it to the Council that morning and they, in their own ways, seemed to share his joy and pushed him toward what everyone knew to be true. That very morning Tombur had made a decision that would change both his and the child's life from then on out and had been sure to tell his old master who planned a visit the next day. He hadn't told little Red who trotted past him again, chasing after a beautiful insect that fluttered right in front of his face with intentions of catching it and examining it.

Still so childish but perfectly mature – the ultimate mix of a well-mannered adult and a rambunctious, adventure-seeking child. He wasn't only more active he was far more playful now and didn't struggle to eat anymore, sometimes taking some extra servings of things, and that much alone made Tombur want to scream his praises to the almighty power that governed them both. He looked back down to the data-pad in his hand, reading over some battle orders that Warren had sent him to proof and approve. This attack wasn't for weeks, but a forward plan was one that always needed to be made. For the shortest of moments he zoned in on the plans and turned his eyes away from the child who was now watching him, the wheels in his head churning with the sight of the knight just seated there on the ground. Being out here made Djibourdi very happy – he was determined that Tombur should be happy too.

To say that the gentle tap to his shoulder caught Tombur by surprise would have been an understatement, but it was only a second's worth of hesitation before he was on his feet and chasing after Djibourdi who had challenged him to a game of tag across the field. The padawan let out a happy, rumbling call before he broke into full speed just long enough to try and dart away and he was successful for just a moment. A second later he had been caught and tossed lightly over a strong shoulder, being spun around for a second before slung into a hammock of strong arms and being laid on his back in the grass.

"You're being so silly!" Tombur teased him, darting his fingers over the sensitive stomach and ribs without tugging the line to his insulin pump. He felt the strongest surge of joy he had ever experienced hit him when the padawan actually laughed – a flat-out, opened lung laugh that lit up his entire face, "Oh! You're ticklish!"

He used that to his advantage and tickled over the sensitive skin and in a split second decision pulled the little shirt up enough to blow a raspberry on the sunken naval. The joyful ringing of laughter was his reward and he did it again before finally relenting, lying down next to him in the tall grasses and watching him struggle for breath in between his giggles. There was the only evidence he needed to know that the light had taken him over again, and he was sure now that the fight for Djibourdi's soul had been won.

The light chime of the door sounded early the next morning and Tombur instantly knew who it was but chose not to say, spying Djibourdi sitting at the dining room table looking intently at where the sound had come from.

"Can you get that for me, Red?" he asked as he stirred some object on the burner in front of him, earning a silent nod.

The Togrutan slid off of the chair and pattered his way over to the door in bare feet, reaching up to hit the open command on the panel. The door followed the command and slid swiftly open with a soft whoosh, allowing the arm air and light from the outdoors to push inside.

"Hi little Red!" Warren told him and laughed at the happy whistle and jump he got, the padawan trotting back to the kitchen as he entered with the two bags and three boxes he held, "I come bearing gifts, gentlemen."

"I can see that," Tombur told him, coming over to greet him once the food was on the table. Sharing their usual greeting, the master took the distraction as an opportunity to whisper a question to him and was pleased at the nod he got in response.

"These will wait until after breakfast," Warren spoke up again, seeing the curiosity gleam in the honey eyes that watched him from by the table, "First the old men need to eat to keep up with the little fireball who's full of energy."

And Djibourdi was, eagerly watching the two older Jedi as they ventured closer to where he was and accepting Warren's hand that was offered to him.

"It's good to see you again, munchkin," he told the child, leading him to his chair and making sure he could safely seat himself, "You look so much better. And I hear you're been doing a lot better too, hmm?"

Djibourdi shyly nodded and looked down to his lap, only slightly tensing when the kind, calloused hand rested in between his montrals.

"That's great!" the eldest told him, tapping the white-streaked nose and earning himself a smile, "I brought some surprises for you but food comes first. Then we can open them, I promise."

He was true to his word and, once a decent amount of food had been downed by the youngest Warren ventured over to the items he had set in the living area, reaching into one bag and retrieving a wooden box that he allowed to rest in the palm of his hand. It was passed off to Tombur before the master gathered the other items and walked alone to the child's temporary quarters. Now that they were alone Tombur called Djibourdi over to the large window in the living area, gesturing for him to sit next to the Echani on the couch. He did so obediently, lightly kicking his legs in a sign of anxiety yet stayed silent, watching intently the knight was sat beside him. Tombur gave him a calming smile before he spoke.

"Warren was out near Shili yesterday," he began, "And I called him to talk to him. I asked him to go buy something for me – of course I ask for one thing and he brings nine but who can understand that man – and this is what I asked for."

He held up the medium-sized box so the youngling knew what he was speaking about and once he was sure it had peaked the interest of his companion he held it out to him.

"This is for you, Red, an it's your decision alone whether you would like to accept or reject it."

The small head tilted to the side in curiosity. Accepting the box he brought it to himself without moving his eyes from Tombur's until he felt sure enough to look away and incrementally pushed the lid up to reveal what it held.

Soft strands of bristle-colored fur peeked up around the edge of a white, neatly folded cloth in the center that he slowly went to pull apart – and when his hands cradled the strand of leather and red simpuri beads he found himself gaping like a fish out of water.

"Simpuri are the purest of pearls on Shili," Tombur told him, trying to gauge the reaction that he hid from their link behind his facade, "They represent purity and strength – it's a legend that Anari, the great huntress and runner of the Chosen, wore a strand of them and they gave her supernatural speed and grace beyond comparison of any creature in existence. I figured it would fit you Red, it's kind of your last name's sake, and I think you know what I'm asking. You have every right to say no, and if you do I und- oof!"

The breath was literally knock out of him by a speeding Togrutan child that dove into him, the box containing the headdress falling off the smaller lap to flop over on the couch when Djibourdi moved, slinging his arms around Tombur's neck to give him the answer he had been hoping for. He said yes. Tombur returned the embrace readily, cradling him against his much stronger frame in happiness.

"Thank you."

He could have sworn his heart stopped beating – his lungs certainly stopped functioning and made him open and close his mouth several times before he grabbed the child and pulled him back, dropping to his knees on the floor to look up at him with wide steely eyes.

"Wh...What did you say?"

"Thank you."

There was the whisper again, one so quiet it would have probably been missed if Tombur hadn't been listening distinctly for it. He had the sweetest voice the Echani had ever heard, a soft tenor note that only emphasized his gentle soul and calm nature. The two whispered words had sent such a shock to the adult that goosebumps riveted the porcelain skin and the shorter hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, two little words portrayed to him the inner strength and intelligence hidden behind the shy exterior. He felt the smile slowly pull his lips upward into a toothy grin, releasing into the Force the tears that would have otherwise fell when his hand was accepted and he pulled his padawan – his padawan – into an embrace.

"You are so very welcome my sweet little Red. My padawan."

He held him for a few seconds then with a light kiss to his temple he pulled away, reaching for the discarded wooden box.

"I wanna see what this will look like on you. Ready?"

Again silent the Togrutan nodded and allowed his new master to arrange the recently acquired headdress of leather and fur over his montrals and lekku, Tombur finding that it matched wonderfully when he gently wove the leather over the four lekku. Once it was strapped in place Djibourdi handed him the pearl braid he still had cradled in his hands and, as was tradition amongst the Jedi, the master clipped it securely in place. Leaving one white hand planted on a red cheek Tombur leaned back to view the headdress on his padawan and felt his heart flutter – oh how perfect it fit!

"Let's go see what Warren's doing," he ordered fondly with a grin, "I don't know what he brought with him since one of that was on my request list."

The walked together to the child's room and Tombur pressed the command for the door to move. Once it slid opened they entered together to spot Warren fussing with something on the bedside, yet he managed to shoot them both a toothy grin.

"Now that you have his present," he told Djibourdi in reference to Tombur, "You get to have mine. Come here and see, child."

The padawan complied and, stepping slightly ahead of his master he came up to the bedside, wide eyes sweeping over the multiple articles of clothing that now lay neatly arranged over the mattress. Such intricate, hand-woven and sewn garments were these, not necessarily hard to come by in the village markets of Shili but more than a welcomed sight for the youngling who took them in. Black clothes with golden weaving had him immediately recognizing it as a rendition of his people's gladiator uniforms of old, ones who were held in such high regard as warriors and icons for the centuries that they served with honor under Shili's royalty. A regal purple and gold sash was arranged next to the clothes, and beyond them lay other articles on clothing.

"I believe with you being my brand new grand-padawan, you deserve a brand new start," he told the youngling as he crouched so they could be at eye level, "You will be forever safe with Tombur and I little one."

Briefly he pressed their foreheads together and stood, gesturing to the items on the bed.

"You go ahead and change clothes now, I had to guesstimate with what would fit you so they might be a little big. Your master and I will be in the living room, alright?"

They both took their leave and Djibourdi moved to run his fingers over the silken cloths for a long moment, relishing their cool feel and tender gentleness. In their eyes he looked like a young prince, and his master wondered secretly to himself whether or not he should change his nickname to just that as he stood proudly in front of him in his new clothing. It was loose on him due to his small size but it gave him room to grow when it finally did happen – he looked now more like a Jedi than he had at any other time, and the light in his eyes got that much brighter at the sight of himself in the mirror.

When time ran down to their final week on Naboo Tombur and Warren took Djibourdi out to the larger field that lay behind the cabin, discovered by the Echani days before. This one was many times the size of the field that they had begun to frequent – at least five or six miles long dotted with trees and gently dancing grasses that bowed lightly beneath the shod feet of the youngling who pranced around the random flags that stuck out of the ground. This was a new world for him: new sounds, new sights, new smells, and the great long field that he so wanted to just dart across without abandon. Yet he was ever obedient, stopping net to his master who signaled to him to listen to what Warren had to say.

"Alright, let's just do three-eighths," he told Tombur and glanced at the Togrutan who blinked curiously, "Try a slow three-eighths, alright? Don't push him."

"I won't," came the promise, the white hand tapping the child on the side, "C'mon Red!"

With uncontainable excitement the padawan trotted quickly alongside his master to the first flag, following the elder's lead that brought them both to a flat-out sprint when they reached the second flag. Warren started his timer and watched them both speeding toward him, Tombur trying to make a marker for Djibourdi to stick next to and to follow so he didn't exhaust himself.

"Let's see what you got, kiddo," Tombur called to him, clicking his tongue and speeding up.

Natural instinct took over and the next thing he knew all he saw was white and red whirling past him to fly past the three-eighths marker without a heavy breath, a loud and happy rumble escaping his lungs as he tossed his head. Oh yes this was wonderful – for those moments he felt free, and when his still-weak body said enough was enough he finally pulled up and jogged slowly to allow his master to catch up, feeling a small bit of pride in himself at the heartfelt praises that fell upon him. Warren had long ago stopped the timer and, hardly wanting to believe the time that was blinking on the screen and bringing it to his ear to ensure it was still clicking.

It had simply been a test to judge his physical standpoint, and just the fact that he was able to handle the third of a mile in flat-out speed reassured both adults enough to introduce him to three new katas that day, and when the sun fell the youngling was dead asleep in his bed, only kind dreams to mark his mind that night.

Tombur and Warren sat together at the dining table, sipping on mugs of tea and discussing the battle plans that drew ever closer.

"That's the thing," the Echani spoke in response to something his old master had pointed out, "It's not just me anymore. I can't look at him and say 'Hey, if I get killed or end up in a hoverchair the rest of my life do you think it'll effect you or change your life at all?'. Now there are two of us in this and I'm not just rolling my own dice with these battles."

"You can't settle on anxiety," the human chided, "He's an intelligent child and, as you saw, he has the makings of a real fighter. I worry about you with every battle you're in as you probably worry about me, but we follow the call of the Force in our fights Tom. It could potentially be years until he joins us out there or commands a fleet of his own and there will always be danger, it is something we have to grow accustomed to. You are a master to someone now, and your job is to train him and nurture him – and that means having him grow used to a little time apart. He might not take well to it at first but he's a very level-headed child. Your time with him isn't up yet, when you return to Coruscant you still have two weeks. Use them. I will take care of your columns, as I always do."

"I apologize, master...I still have that bad habit of getting caught up on things."

"We all have our trouble spots," Warren told him, stirring his tea with a bit of persuasion from the Force, "Just try to think of it in terms of being his guardian. Just teach him what I taught you and listen to his signals – you will be just fine. Sam and the others are eager to meet him."

"Good ol' Sam," Tombur couldn't help but laugh fondly about his second-in-command clone captain, "He's a good man. They all are."

"They wanted me to tell you to get your butt moving and get back out there – and they are eager to meet their little brother in the future."

His columns were his second family, Tombur knew, and those clones were more than his chargers, they were his brothers in arms and he was sure that when Djibourdi was ready he would have a whole hoard of clone chargers running behind him.

As inevitable as time passed Warren left early the next morning and day by day little Djibourdi grew slightly stronger until it was that their time was up. Now the child sat strapped into the seat behind him and gazed with high interest at the bright white and blue of hyperspace that shot wildly past the window as they flew back to Coruscant. Despite his outwardly calm appearance Tombur could feel that Djibourdi was unsettled and, a gentle tug at their bond told him that he was sad – sad at leaving behind such beautiful and majestic nature only to go back to a cold, stone and steel city where there was hardly a plant in sight save the Jedi Gardens. Being thrown head-first into a massive throng of bodies and concrete wasn't something that Tombur necessarily wanted to do to his padawan but it was a critical point that would have to come at one time or another. With all of his schoolwork for the next few months already been completed Djibourdi didn't have classes to focus on, so when Tombur had spoken to the Council they had assigned the padawan and his master to library duty; oh the joy of sorting holodisks and dusting shelves and doing research the knight couldn't help but think bitterly. At least his padawan enjoyed the books.

The tiny book he had given his master had been burned by the child's personal request back on Naboo, it was a way of reconciling with his past.

"We'll be alright, Red," the knight spoke as the ship lurched out of hyperspace and drifted gently into the atmosphere of Coruscant. The Togrutan seemed startled by his name being called and looked up with wide eyes and biting his lower lip, "Nice and calm, my little padawan. Remember, they are your family. I will be with you for a while yet and we can work through it together. You don't have to say anything to them, they are not there to judge you or make you nervous. You'll be fine."

He got a nod of understanding as the ship was guided to land on a platform on the edge of the Temple, a small group of four waiting patiently as the small machine landed and the engines were shut down. Flipping the switch to open the hangar door Tombur unbuckled himself and waited for his padawan to join him, grasping his shoulders softly to earn his eyes.

"Remember: you don't have to say anything. Don't be afraid. I am here."

His padawan took a deep breath and nodded again, straightening his stance and falling behind his facade almost instantly. His small satchel was handed to him and he accepted it, feeling the slightest mundane comfort of the little flashing ball pressing against the back of his shoulder. He probably shouldn't still have it but it was one thing that had been given to him and only him; it was precious. Together master and padawan exited the shuttle into the Coruscant sun, both only slightly hesitating as they breathed in the familiar shock of confusion and chaos – behind the waiting party people darted here and there and to and fro, all going somewhere and doing something. Tombur led the way to the waiting Jedi Council members, giving a gracious bow that his padawan copied.

"Masters. We're honored that you would meet us."

"We have eagerly awaited your return," Master Windu told him, smiling at the shy young padawan that was trying not to physically cringe under their kind eyes, "Your padawan has been doing remarkably well, we have heard."

"He has indeed, Master Windu," Tombur confirmed, sending a note of reassurance through their bond when he felt the frayed nerves on the other end, "He continues to exceed my expectations on every turn and has made great progress in his skills and knowledge."

"Done well you have, Padwan Anari," Grand Master Yoda addressed him, earning a thankful bow of the white head, "On light duty, placed you we have. At home you should feel on Coruscant and in the Temple. In time, hmm?"

"Yes, master."

It was a soft whisper, only the second that Tombur had heard from him in the past month and a half but he instantly sent encouragement through their bond at the bravery he had shown.

"Aha!" Master Fisto softly exclaimed as he knelt to meet the sharp gold eyes, "And there it is! I told you little one, in time they would come. Was I right?"

He got a rare smile and a nod, only for a second did the eyes look away but he summoned the courage to look at Master Ti who spoke next.

"Atan se heeia," she spoke to him in fluent Togruti, knowing full well that he understood everything she said, "Kevasa naa, tou zu meneibe. Seta muude es alrena jazeni."

Tombur knew some basic Togruti but those words were gibberish to him, yet apparently they made since to the padawan's whose eyes lightened as he blushed.

"To your rooms, Master Fisto will guide you," Yoda told them as Fisto stood with a warm smile, "Tomorrow begins your new duties. To you, the night belongs."

"Thank you, Master. We are quite honored."

As they glided calmly down the hall, all in a line with Fisto to Tombur's left and Djibourdi to his right, the Echani fleetingly patted one small shoulder in praise. He hadn't expected Djibourdi to speak at all let alone in front of the grand master and three others from the Council – he had assumed that the child was far from ready to take that step and just the fact that he had been willing to jump ahead and do it made his master want to pick him up and squeeze him. He could be physically comforting in private but he was trying to wean the child off of it so he could understand that he held the same affection and love in his words and to help bring him back into the laws of the code.

The small trio traveled down four long halls before reaching their destination, and when they did reach it Fisto knelt one more time to speak to Djibourdi.

"Keep up the good work, little one. Your master is here now, and you may always come to any of us if you need to."

Standing he bowed to Tombur and gave a heartfelt farewell before leaving them to explore their new quarters. Much smaller than their previous surroundings but Tombur could physically feel the relief in their bond when his padawan noted the small potted tree that sat in the corner of his bedroom on the opposite side of his bed. The transition would indeed be a painful one, but one that was called for.

After four planetary rotations Djibourdi had grown accustomed to working alongside Madame Jocasta. The elderly woman was incredibly understanding of his aversion to people and had set him about working in the historical and theoretical sections of the archives, one that wasn't visited nearly as often as she believed it should have been but it worked out perfectly for the current situation. She had found a certain joy when the child jumped on any new article that came into the archives and she had taken to giving him advance copies which he would take back to his room, read through in a couple of hours, meditate on, and bring back the next morning. Any opportunity to spread knowledge should never be passed up, and Jocasta especially used it when one was so eager to learn like this.

This night she approached him with an advance copy of an article on cyphers and he was incredibly eager to accept it, giving her a shy smile that she understood.

"You are more than welcome child. You hurry now, it is getting late and I am sure your master will be worried. Take your trip tomorrow to read it, you have done more than enough to help me. Have a good night and may the Force be with you."

With a bow he made his leave, powering on the data-pad and calmly walking through the halls toward the outside path. This path was always the busiest but knowing that all of the bodies in front of him were Jedi did help his nerves on most days, but today as he exited the library and entered the orange rays of the setting Coruscant sun his mind was concentrating on the words printed in front of his eyes. Basic use of sound waves made it easy for him to dodge people here and there without moving his eyes from the second paragraph – who knew that such sophisticated-looking cyphers were actually so easy to decode?

The wind lightly rubbed at his cheeks and rustled the bristle fur on his headdress but he blocked it out without a second thought. Ever since arriving back to the Temple he had perfected the art of not paying attention to every single minute detail in the wind and in his fellow Jedi's movements, the air had so many different scents and and some Jedi were just compulsive and just thinking about it was making his head hurt –

"Dji."

It was brought to him on the breeze and for a moment he chalked it up to wind but without his permission his body froze mid step and his head shot up to located the source of the sound– it had come from his left and with a blink he turned, expecting to find nothing there. What he found instead was something entirely different that he hadn't planned on and he couldn't deny that at that very moment he recognized her without a spare half-second, even despite her changes and now healthy appearance. He couldn't believe he was seeing Ahsoka.

"Dji!" She darted over to him and for the first time in his life he didn't hesitate a heartbeat at returning someone's embrace, code or no code he could not believe his sister was doing so well.

It was pure happenstance that the slight bit of height he had put on brought him to her shoulder and that he didn't have to feel so small, not that Ahsoka would have cared at that exact moment. She drew back from him and held him at arms' length, cerulean eyes sparkling as she took him in. Leaning this way and that way as she grinned and gasped she took him in completely, from his headdress to the slowly rebuilding muscle over his body the to beautiful red color of his skin.

"Oh Dji, you're so handsome!" she told him with tears in her voice.

He smiled at her, she had grown into herself quite well and looked a million times better than when he had last seen her. She held and air of exhaustion about her but besides that she looked completely well, and for that he gave his praises to the Force. In a relatively short amount of time she seemed to have put on the weight she had lost and looked less and less like a child and more and more like a woman – a fierce woman who would fight to her last breath to protect those she cared about. She would always be the caring one.

"Oh, I wondered how you were doing and where you were and what had happened and – Is that a padawan braid?!"

She had spied the red beads that blew in the wind on the right side of his head and when he gave her an eager nod he couldn't help but giggle when she squealed and jumped ecstatically about. When she stopped she was still twitching in joy, two orange hands held up to her face.

"You have a master! That's so great! Can I meet her or him or...them?! Can I?!"

Djibourdi grinned at her and held out his hand for her to grasp, and once she did he jogged with her down the remainder of the stone path and into the halls of the Temple on the opposite side. He knew not to run at his full speed, he couldn't have seen himself going that kind of distance right then and with the somewhat crowded halls he needed time to pull them from one less populated area to the other. Taking a final left turn he slowed them both down and came to his current quarter's door, releasing her hand to swiftly enter the security code on the electronic pad to gain them access. With a soft whoosh the doors slid aside and he gestured her in before him. The door whooshed shut and Djibourdi wasted no time in crossing from the front door to right behind the kitchen counter, setting his nearly-forgotten datapad on the counter and reaching out to tap his master on his back to gain his attention from where the Echani had been chopping some vegetables.

"There you are, Red! You're late today," the knight told him with a hint of affection as he turned to look at him and followed the red finger to where Ahsoka now stood. Djibourdi crossed back over to her happily, "Well hello there, dear! Who is this, Dji?"

"I am padawan Ahsoka Tano," she introduced herself with a bow.

"So you are young Ahsoka!" Tombur smiled at her, "I was wondering when I'd get the honor of meeting you. Ah, where are my manners? Jedi knight Tombur Efflia, at your service."

He mirrored her gracious motion.

"You knew about me?" Ahsoka asked with a slight bit of confusion, turning to Djibourdi who was slightly squirming and shifting his weight happily from foot to foot next to her.

"Oh yes, little Red has told me all about you," was the response. Honestly Djibourdi hadn't told him, he had written it in his little book but to Tombur it counted as the same as being straight from the red mouth to his ear, "An incredibly brave young lady I have heard you are."

She blushed.

"I suppose so, master."

"None of that nonsense now, not with me. I'm far to young for that mess child, just call me by my name. Dji and I are almost ready to sit down for dinner – would you like to join us?"

"I don't want to impose..."

"Oh no!" the knight laughed, gesturing Djibourdi toward his room, "We always enjoy company and since Red has a trip in the morning having a friend over can only help him be calm. The more the merrier, child. Why don't you show her your room and get cleaned up, Red? I'll call you both when dinner is ready."

Ahsoka was incredibly appreciative of the home-cooked meal – ever since Anakin had returned to Rex and the others she had taken to eating instant soups and nibbling on the tasteless substances that came from the dining halls in the Temple. She avoided cooking as if it were a plague not necessarily out of fear of messing it up but instead not really wanting to invest the extra effort into making the food when she could be training. Her friend's new master was quite the chef she had to tell him as she took another bite of the meatloaf, wanting to do a happy dance in her chair if master Obi-Wan's words didn't constantly echo in her head about making a good impression that was marked by dignity and respect. Tombur was an incredibly kind man and she couldn't help but feel sure that her friend had landed into the best hands possible – that feeling alone had her nearly completely satisfied that Djibourdi would be fine. He still had a lot of recovering to do, she could see, but now she had no doubt that the future held a gracious place for him.

And as it was exactly a year and a half passed by gently, guided by the warm and caring hands of the Force without any major incident. On Shili sat a clean white building amidst a plain of turu grass, a place of healing and sanctuary for the children that experienced the worst life had to offer. As Tocarra traveled down the halls she could not hide her smile even as she passed the emergency areas; nothing could stop her happiness at not only returning from her recent trip to Coruscant but also for the present she had for her now-graduated colleague who was surely on the clock. Sure as the day was long he sat at a table in the break room, a steaming cup of strong kaff held in one hand, a half-eaten sandwich in front of him, and a data-pad filled probably filled with some new case held in his free hand. Their mutual friend sat next to him, also reading some nondescript thing but he noticed her first, sending her a smile.

"Welcome back," he greeted her with enthusiasm as she sat across from them.

"Thanks, Don. It was a fun trip but you know I'm no fan of flying...I do, however..." she reached into the pocket of her coat to retrieve the image disk she had brought, "have a present for Eddy who should really **be listening**."

He was listening (halfway) as he skimmed over the information in the pad he held – he was used to her seemingly mean but playful banter.

"Hello to you too, Carra," he told her without looking up, one thumb scrolling up the document, "I'm just doing what you taught me. I'm trying to figure this out."

"Well the new lesson is that Tocarra always has something that will surprise you," was the shot back, "Take a break for one second and look at this."

"I've seen Coruscant as many times as the next person. I'm sure you saw some awesome scenery -"

"No, Eddy I **really **think you should see this."

She knew she had won when he turned of his pad and set it one the table, taking a long draw of his kaff and holding out his hand to accept the image disk that was passed to him. With a soft press to its power button it powered on to show him a holographic image – taken in front of some garden it had Tocarra, some white-skinned and white-haired man and a teenage Togrutan boy in it, but nothing in it really stood out to him immediately as being as dire as his former boss made it out to be. Yes, both of the males she was with in this picture were obviously Jedi in the way they stood so majestically and looked with an air of wisdom to where the camera was, the younger tall enough to stand tall enough for the tip of his head to reach the middle of the Echani's upper arm. The most obvious hint that she was in the Jedi Temple in this picture were the double lightsabers clipped at both of the Jedis' sides, both of them wearing the image of the Council on their shoulders along with golden embroidered patches on their opposite arms. Both were quite handsome males, both well-built and decently muscled, both neatly kept – but he didn't know these people. His eyes rolled up to look at her incredulously.

"I really don't know what I'm looking at. The only person I recognize here is you – I don't know these other people."

"No?" Tocarra pressed him, shooting him a smile when his brow furrowed, "Look closer."

He looked to the image again. Tocarra in some garden with some Echani and a well-built teange boy with sharp gold ey- that was when he did a double-take at what he saw, leaning his head forward to stare into the intelligent eyes that looked back at him through the screen. It wasn't the bright birthmark on his face that gave him away. It was his eyes. When he saw the child's eyes he recognized him immediately yet still found himself at a loss for words as he gaped with a slacked jaw from the picture to Tocarra to the picture once again. The image of the youngling in front of him would stay with him forever.

He was built like a watch, a study in balance; a big, tall, full-bodied Togrutan with every part of his body so refined... like a drawing by some great philosopher of times past. He was so much bigger than when Eddy had seen him last – groomed and glowing in the warmth of the planet's sun, his body wider, taller, fuller, looking like a royal young prince who was growing into a king.

"Is-is that – it can't be but is that -"

"That," the doctor told him with a loving smile, "Is our little Djibourdi. His master calls him 'Big Red'."

**IOIOIOIOIOIOIOI**

And thus is the end of this story! Big Red has been born in this writing and I hope he embodies all of your courage and strength. He will not necessarily be omitted from stories in the future, but he will only be there if I believe himself and Rabbit to be elemental to the plot. I love to write about them since, being their creator, I know all of their personality traits, but we shall see.

I hope you all enjoyed the story. Please review if you so choose or shoot me a PM, just so I know who reads these and who does not.

Happy Writing,

~Eliana


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